


Deluge the Sequel

by celestialenigma



Series: Deluge [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Drama, M/M, Mild Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3126008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialenigma/pseuds/celestialenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America and Canada are finally together. Life is wonderful and Alfred decides that what he'd love more than anything is to tie the knot with his lover and best friend. However nothing can ever be easy, can it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm back again with the sequel to Deluge. You will need to read the first story 'Deluge' or else parts of this won't really make sense to you, probably. This sequel will be romantic and hopefully fluffy with only a little bit of drama and little to no angst.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, McDonald's, the band 'Great Big Sea' or any other things that I've probably neglected to mention. Seriously, I own nothing but the laptop that I'm writing on and the coffee that fuels me.

**Chapter One**

 

In hindsight, Alfred probably should have planned things out a little more, put a bit more thought into what he said and did. He's a passionate guy though and he likes to do what comes to his mind. Since Alfred usually has a whole lot of luck, this plan of attack almost never backfires.

 

However, as he found out, it sometimes can. Spectacularly.

 

It was a Saturday evening during the middle of autumn. He and Mattie had just been out for the day. They'd been lovers for a few years, ever since they'd finally admitted their love for each other in Russia. They'd been best friends for centuries, and while they now did things that one would do with a boyfriend, they still liked to just hang out. Shoot the shit. That sort of thing.

 

Alfred had suggested tossing around a baseball. Mattie had looked skeptical and suggested that they do just about anything else. Alfred had really, really wanted to play ball though and the day had been so nice and sunny. So Mattie eventually agreed.

 

Now, that had been the first mistake of the day. Alfred just didn't have a whole lot of control of his strength when he threw a ball. He didn't want to see Mattie hurt, but he ended up hitting him with the ball quite a few times.

 

In Alfred's defence, Mattie was sort of slow unless he was playing hockey. So that black eye wasn't totally his fault.

 

They didn't play for too long before Mattie crossed his arms and refused to play any more. Instead, they chose to go on a walk through the park, and got a cup of ice at a refreshment stall for Mattie's eye. Alfred made sure to kiss the swelling eye and the cheek under it in apology a number of times.

 

Taking the long way through the park back to Alfred's mustang, he saw it. There was a new McDonald's that Alfred didn't even know about. It was across the road from the park, golden arches gleaming like a beacon.

 

Bouncing on the balls of his feet and turning, Alfred opened his mouth only to have Mattie place his hand over it and say, “Yes, we can go.”

 

“Yay!”

 

He ordered the large fries, a huge vanilla milkshake and two big macs. To round out the meal, he also got a couple of the apple pies. Mattie was a bit more conservative in what he ordered, with a burger, fries, coffee and one apple pie.

 

When they sat down to eat, Alfred couldn't help but smile. Mattie was just about the only nation, except Japan, who would eat McDonald’s with him and not complain. There sat Mattie, blowing on his hot coffee that had been made with two creams and two sugars. Double double, Mattie called it. A Canadianism.

 

Mattie sipped slowly on his drink and then nibbled on a french fry with those plush pink lips of his. McDonald’s and Mattie. He sighed happily.

 

Alfred couldn't help but blurt it out, “Will you marry me?”

 

That was where hindsight could have been helpful. Maybe he would have received a different answer if he hadn't had a mouthful of hamburger? Alfred didn't know.

 

What he did know was Mattie looked over, tired and with a black-eye and said, “Huh?”

 

Alfred swallowed and said, “Marry me? Wouldn't it be a great idea?”

 

Mattie smiled and shook his head, “If you are really, truly asking now, my answer is no.”

 

The great thing with the two of them as a couple, is that things rarely got awkward. The men were quiet for the rest of the meal, and the walk back to the mustang with Alfred only pouting a little bit. Alfred's mind, however, had been whirling. When he sat in the driver's seat and backed out of the spot he had parked in, he said, “So was it just because I asked in a McDonald’s?”

 

Stroking Kumajirou's white fur, Mattie said, “Not entirely.”

 

Ten more minutes went by. Since Alfred had been busy thinking, he didn't even care that Mattie had put on some of his Canadian music. A group called 'Great Big Sea'. Not that he really cared too much about Mattie picking what they listened to. He hardly even noticed Mattie singing under his breath, something he would usually make a remark about.

 

The idea was in his head. Marrying Mattie? That would be so great. A bunch of his states had legalized gay marriage and Canada had legalized it years before he did. It would be so awesome.

 

“So why did you say no then?” asked Alfred, as he tapped the steering wheel to the tune that he only subconsciously listened to.

 

Mattie shrugged and bit his lower lip. He looked away.

 

“Come on, tell meeeeee,” said Alfred, “Do you not love me anymore?”

 

Oh god. What if that was it? What if Mattie just didn't want to marry him because he didn't love Alfred anymore?

 

“You know that I do. I love you so much,” said Mattie, quiet as usual.

 

Alfred felt Mattie's hand reach out and his slipped his own hand into it.

 

“It's just that you didn't seem to put much thought into the proposal, and...I just...want you to be sure-”

 

Alfred interrupted, looking over at Mattie for a moment before he looked back on the road and stopped the car from swerving to the side, “I am sure. Totally sure.”

 

Mattie squeezed his hand and then said, “Well, I want you to think more about it. But I would also like, y'know, to not be proposed to in a fast food restaurant.”

 

Oooooh. He could do that, thought Alfred before he blurted, “We aren't in one now. Will you marry me? I've thought about marrying you since we left McDonald’s. So it's been a while.”

 

Mattie leaned over and kissed Alfred's cheek, “Think about it for a bit longer than that, okay?”

 

So Alfred had waited. He had waited until they got back to Alfred's home and were sitting in front of the T.V. Alfred had taken Mattie's hand in his and said, once more, “Will you marry me?”

 

Mattie kissed his lips and said, “How about you wait a week, okay?”

 

And then snuggled against Alfred and continued to watch his show.

 

Oh, Alfred could totally wait a week. He'd be pro at it, if waiting a week was what it took for Mattie to agree to marry him.

 

#

 

Alfred had been acting weird all day long. Matthew peered over his book and across the table at his lover, whose chair had started to make scuffling sounds on the floor from all the vibrating Alfred was doing. Alfred's blue eyes constantly darted towards the clock on the wall. He'd hardly touched his steak.

 

“If you aren't going to eat that, can I?” asked Kumasaborou, standing up on his hind legs on his own chair, nearly hovering over Alfred's plate.

 

Normally Alfred would snatch his plate away and protect it with his life. That night, he didn't even blink. He just kept staring at the clock.

 

“I'm going to eat it now,” repeated the bear.

 

Matthew poked at his pet's face until the animal moved. It snorted but sat back down and scowled at Matthew. Too bad. Kumacricket had already had his own meal. Once Alfred came out of his daze or whatever it was, he'd be ticked at the bear for eating his food.

 

“Um, hey Alfred. What's-”

 

Matthew's sentence was interrupted as Alfred yelled, “AHA! It's been a week to the minute. Now Mattie, will you marry me?”

 

His jaw dropped. So that was what had been going on. Did Alfred not get it? Matthew hadn't thought that he'd have to spell it out implicitly.

 

“I was kinda hoping for something...y'know...a bit more romantic,” said Matthew, breathing out that last word so quietly that he wasn't sure if Alfred would hear him or not.

 

Alfred, to his eternal credit, didn't even seem to be deterred. He didn't even pout or deflate against the table as Matthew sort of expected him to. At the very least, Matthew knew that if Alfred waited a week, that this wasn't a passing fancy. Probably.

 

Stroking his chin, Alfred went deep into his own thoughts. Matthew suddenly had a really bad feeling about this.

 

Over the past few years, not much had changed between he and Alfred. They were dating, so that did mean that in general they spent a lot more time with one another. They practically lived together, switching back and forth between each other's houses. There was also the sex, which was great.

 

More than great really, fantastic. Mind-blowing. Awe-inspiring? Not even poets had written odes about how great their sex was.

 

However when it came to romance? They didn't do much. They hadn't needed or wanted to really.

 

So Matthew didn't know why this was different for him this time. He should just say yes and be done with it. Maybe, though, he inherited something from when Francis had looked after him all those many years ago. A desire for romantic proposals.

 

Or maybe, just maybe, Matthew felt a little bit nervous.

 

Staying at each other's houses was one thing. But being husbands?

 

Matthew should be jumping for joy. He'd only wanted Alfred for centuries. Now he was getting everything that he'd ever wanted. So why did his stomach feel so jittery?

 

What if he didn't have what it took to be a husband? What if he screwed things up at the alter or said somebody else's name or-

 

“Okay,” said Alfred, finally digging into his steak with gusto, “I'm going to romance your pants off. You won't even know what hit you.”

 

Matthew was shy, a bit too sensitive and he wasn't fond of confrontation. However if Matthew could say one thing about himself, it's that he was definitely not a coward.

 

So some of the nerves melted away and he said, “Bring it on.”

 

#

 

Arthur sat down at a small table, set just for himself in his sun room. There was a plate with two freshly baked scones, a pot of tea and a cup on a saucer. A novel with a fabric bookmark hanging out of it sat beside the tea.

 

“Time to unwind from a stressful day,” said Arthur to himself as he lifted the steaming drink to his lips.

 

Behind him, the door slammed open, making him jump and spill scalding hot liquid on his shirt.

 

“England! Dude, you gotta help me!” shouted America, storming into his home.

 

“Don't you ever knock? Bloody hell, this is hot,” growled Arthur, dabbing at the spot with a serviette.

 

Alfred stopped and stared down at him, “I did knock a couple times, you didn't answer, and you got something like right here.”

 

Then, Alfred so kindly pointed out another spilled spot of tea on Arthur's shirt. Observant.

 

“Yes, well I didn't hear you. I'm busy. That should have been a clue to go away.”

 

“But I need advice,” said Alfred, pouting and flopping down into the chair across the Arthur.

 

Scowling and rolling his hand as a gesture to continue, Arthur said, “Fine. Well you might as well ask me whatever it was that was so damned important to interrupt my tea-time for.”

 

“Okay...Okay. Listen, how can I be romantic enough when I propose so that Mattie will marry me?”

 

That, Arthur hadn't expected.

 

Nations typically only married for alliances between countries. Marriages for personal reasons were rarely heard of. Off-hand, Arthur could only think of one other example of a nation marrying for pleasure and it involved Alfred himself.

 

A few years ago, it was revealed to Arthur that Alfred had once been wed to a human woman named Susanna. After Alfred had settled everything between himself and Canada, Arthur had asked about Susanna. He never received an answer, no matter how much he asked about the subject.

 

“Well how did you propose before?” asked Arthur, topping up his tea to replace what had been spilled.

 

“Um, well I sort of blurted it out in a McDonald's. Then I asked while watching TV and then, when Mattie asked me to wait a week, I proposed over dinner after exactly a week had passed,” said Alfred, following swirl in the tablecloth with his finger.

 

“Stupid,” muttered Arthur, shaking his head, “But that wasn't what I meant. I was referring to your former spouse. How did you ask her for her hand?”

 

Alfred's lips thinned and his eyes blanked. His face was so serious and uncharacteristically like himself that Arthur found his scowl melt away. He sighed instead.

 

“If you want my help, I'd like a bit more information.”

 

Alfred shrugged and said, “Not much to tell.”

 

“But there must be something there, since you've refused to speak to me about it.”

 

“Nope.”

 

Arthur bit into a scone and patted crumbs off of his face with the tip of a napkin, “That's a lie and we know it. So she was alive before your fight to be freed from my rule.”

 

Alfred's lips thinned so much they nearly went white. He nodded, “Yep.”

 

“Did she die in the war?”

 

Jumping up and slamming both of his hands on the table, Alfred glared over at Arthur, “What do you know of it?”

 

Shaking his head, Arthur said quietly, “Only what I've been able to guess based on the information you've let slip. For what it's worth, if my soldiers purposely or even accidentally killed your wife, I'm sorry.”

 

Alfred fell back into the chair and slumped into it, “It was a long time ago. I'm not really upset at you about it anymore. I just don't like the idea of talking to you about it.”

 

“I'm sure. But why didn't you ever tell me? Even before the war?”

 

“It happened so quickly. It was all I could do to make sure that Mattie was there for the wedding,” said Alfred, looking a bit sheepish.

 

“You invited your brother?”

 

Alfred flinched, “Will you stop calling him that? It's getting kind of weird. He's my lover now.”

 

Arthur tilted his head slightly in acquiescence, “Fair enough. It's habit I suppose, even though in the world of nations, you are technically his brother even if not by blood. But you did invite him?”

 

“Yeah. And now that I think about it, I remember him not being too happy. I thought back then it was just because she was human.”

 

“But he was in love with you, and you made him watch you get married to somebody else.”

 

Alfred was quiet for a while. Arthur drank his tea and ate the rest of his scone.

 

“I'd have still invited him,” said Alfred.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“If I knew of his feelings? I would have invited him to my wedding anyway. It would have been totally selfish, but I'd still have done it. He's always been the most important person to me.”

 

Arthur hummed and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on his lap, “So again I ask, how did you propose to this 'Susanna'?”

 

Alfred looked down and said, “I gave her a bunch of violets that I'd picked and just asked.”

 

“I suppose that a man didn't need to do much back then.”

 

“No, and can you see me handing Mattie a bunch of flowers and asking for his hand in marriage?”

 

Snorting a laugh, Arthur said, “Not really. So you really asked him to marry you in one of those restaurants of yours?”

 

“Its not like I own them, but yeah. I just sort of blurted it out since he looked so adorable eating fries and drink coffee. I don't think it helped that earlier that day I'd whooped Mattie's ass at baseball because he moves so slowly.”

 

Arthur thought a bit, “You know, I've wooed my fair share of people.”

 

“You have?” asked Alfred, sounding surprised.

 

“Yes,” said Arthur getting a tad perturbed, “If you don't think I can be romantic, why did you even come here to ask my advice?”

 

“You're the first person I thought to come to for advice since I can't really ask Mattie.”

 

Oh, well...Arthur found that rather nice. Alfred came to him first.

 

“That and I kinda thought that maybe Francis would be here?”

 

Arthur pursed his lips, stood and walked out of the room, muttering profanities.

 

#

 

Alfred banged his fist on the elegant doors to France's home. Arthur stood behind him mumbling and faintly cursing under his breath. Maybe Alfred should have come here first.

 

No! The more ideas he had, the better. Alfred would ace this romance stuff.

 

“'Allo?” said Francis, opening the door, revealing himself.

 

The Frenchman was donning only a partially closed red silk robe and leaned against the door frame.

 

“Oh, Arthur my love. You are here with Alfred. To what do I owe the pleasure?” said Francis.

 

Arthur stormed up to Francis and tugged the robe closed, glaring up at the other man, “Cover yourself better you damned frog! You're exposed to the whole bloody world.”

 

Francis placed a kiss on the tip of Arthur's nose, “Jealous?”

 

Then Arthur went inside, making himself at home, grumbling.

 

Alfred, meanwhile, was grinning, “He didn't punch you for kissing him in front of me. That's progress, right?”

 

“Oui!” said Francis, tying the robe more securely and going to follow his lover.

 

Alfred took off his shoe and followed, taking the offered glass of wine. He knew better than to ask for anything else to drink in France's home. The last time he'd asked for water, France had cocked his head to the side and said, _“Do you mean a weaker tasting wine? Is that what you are asking for?”_

 

Alfred had known, of course, that Francis had been messing with him. However France kept up the act until Alfred stopped asking for anything but wine.

 

“So to what do I owe the pleasure?” asked Francis, swirling the drink in his glass.

 

“I need help in proposing to Mattie. He wants me to do something romantic. But how do you be romantic to another dude?”

 

“Flowers and chocolates of course.”

 

Alfred said, “No, Mattie doesn't really care about flowers.”

 

Arthur piped up, “If I recall, he does like chocolates.”

 

“I guess. But is that romantic? Just handing him a box of candy and then asking for him to marry me?”

 

Francis placed a hand on his own forehead and said, “Mon dieu, I can see now why you asked for my help. You need to prepare some kind of speech first.”

 

Alfred perked up, “Hey. A speech? I do those at world meetings all the time. Those are easy.”

 

“Except that it can't be about robots or hamburgers,” said Arthur, rolling his eyes.

 

Crossing his arms, Alfred said, “Not all of my speeches are about those things. I do make some of my speeches boring and uncool y'know.”

 

“Yes, sometimes you talk about superheroes,” said Arthur.

 

“At least I don't have imaginary friends,” replied Alfred, wondering why he'd even decided to let Arthur come along.

 

Just as Arthur looked about to get up, Francis waved his hands, “Children, children! Must we argue? We aren't here to fight, but to help Alfred in the ways of love.”

 

“Fine. You're right,” said Arthur, holding out his wine glass which was already empty and wiggling it in front of Francis.

 

After topping up England's drink, Francis said, “Alright. Here is what you have to do...”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 

 

With Alfred gone on a trip to Europe, and no meetings of any sort scheduled for a while, Matthew had decided to relax. It was going to be perfect. First, he'd sleep in for however long he wanted. He didn't get to do that with Alfred around, since that man woke up early and instantly perky. Then he'd wake up and make the largest stack of fluffy pancakes that he and Kumaflippa could eat.

 

After that, he was thinking of going for a long hike to collect some of the pails of maple sap that he had attached to the trees. He'd set a big batch of sap boiling and make some home-made syrup. Perhaps he'd even give out bottles of the stuff as gifts again this year. Last year he'd even made friends with the former nation of Prussia because of the syrup he'd gifted.

 

Though Matthew did miss his lover, some alone time was nice.

 

As he curled up under a fluffy throw blanket on his couch and flipped on a new episode of a TV show that he liked, Matthew heard a soft, rhythmic rapping on his front door. Not at all like Alfred's chaotic and loud knock, and not many people came out to spend time with him. Besides, Alfred had a key.

 

All of his other friends usually asked Matthew to spend time at their homes and called ahead of time. He couldn't think of anybody who would just show up out of the blue, except for one person.

 

Sighing and tossing aside his blanket, he got up and peeked out of the small window on his door.

 

Russia and, if he could see correctly from out of the frosted white glass, Lithuania.

 

The knocking hadn't stopped from it's steady rhythm, so Matthew opened the door.

 

“Hello Ivan, Toris. How can I help you?”

 

Russia smiled and tilted his head to one side while holding up his luggage, “This summer, you invited me to stay at your home. I am taking you up on your offer. I also brought my friend with me.”

 

Ah. Matthew knew what that meant. He and Ivan had been texting back and forth every now and again for a few years. It wasn't too terribly often, but enough that Matthew understood that Russia and Lithuania were a couple.

 

“Oh well. You are welcome to stay with me,” said Matthew, moving aside to allow the two men to step inside and take their coats off, “But next time, if you wanted, you could call first. That way I could get my guest rooms ready. I don't have people over very often after all.”

 

He heard Lithuania mumble under his breath something like, “I told him to call.”

 

Russia put down his luggage and went about hanging up his coat and putting away his boots. The man didn't bother to ask where things went, he just did everything himself. Matthew, was actually used to this sort of attitude. While Russia made sure that everything he put away and did was neat and precise, when Alfred made himself at home, everything would still be sort of messy. But since both men amde themselves at home and helped themselves, Matthew actually wasn't bothered.

 

Not even when Ivan went, sat down and began to change channels on Matthew's TV.

 

“You have a larger television than I do,” said Russia, looking on in awe at the huge flat-screen.

 

Scratching the back of his head, Matthew said, “Well that's because Alfred lives with me half the year. He bought the TV for this place because he refused to watch his shows and movies on a small screen.”

 

Lithuania's head snapped up and he looked around frantically, “U-ummm, is he here right now?”

 

Toris and Matthew met eyes and each of them shuddered. They knew what would happen if Russia and America were forced to live in the same home for any length of time. It wouldn't be good.

 

Matthew shook his head, “No. He is in Europe right now visiting England.”

 

Both he and Toris breathed simultaneous sighs of relief.

 

“So did you just get off of the plane?” said Matthew, looking around at both of the other men in the room, “I'm sure that you're pretty tired, since it is kind of late now.”

 

“Yes we did. And I think I would like to lay down now,” said Russia, speaking in a friendly tone of voice but without a hint of question.

 

Matthew agreed and quickly went upstairs to prepare one of his guest rooms. He lived in a house that wasn't nearly as large as Russia's. It was a log-house style and so wasn't overly huge. Upstairs he had his bedroom, which he now shared with Alfred. He also had two guest bedrooms, a bathroom in his room and a separate one for guests to use.

 

He changed the sheets, assuming that Russia and Lithuania would wish to share the same bed, and set out some fluffy towels for them. He also put out a new bar of soap for them, not having much else in the way of hygiene products to offer a guest. In the past, he'd buy things such as toothbrushes, toothpastes, mini-bottles of shampoos and whatnot. He'd stopped bothering when they'd all go bad.

 

Again, he didn't often have guests. He would go visit people.

 

When he went downstairs, ready to announce that the room was complete, he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. A key in the door. A key in the door...

 

A key in the maple-bleeping door.

 

Oh god! Now was the time to panic.

 

Alfred had enough problems with Russia occupying the same space in world meetings. Never before had the two shared a house for any amount of time.

 

This was going to be World War Three, Matthew just knew it.

 

Running out into the foyer , Matthew slammed his body against the front door just as it started to open, “Hey Alfred. I'm having work done on the house. There's wood and tools and boards everywhere so come back in a week okay. Ha ha ha.”

 

Sweat formed on the back of his neck and he strained as Alfred pushed against the door in kind, “Dude, you know I'm handy with repairs and stuff. Lemme in, I can help.”

 

Russia, grinning ear to ear, came in and was about to say something as Lithuania slapped a hand over his mouth. Canada made motions over his throat to indicate that the larger man should be quiet.

 

“U-um, well Alfred...you see...I'm painting too and there's so many fumes. And see, I only have one mask to cover my face so you'll have to come back later.”

 

“I'm too heroic to pass out from paint fumes. Lemme in,” said Alfred, who tried to peek in just as Matthew blocked his vision with his body.

 

Matthew laughed nervously. Alfred full on pouted.

 

“Please Al?”

 

“What're you hiding from me Mattie? I'm not stupid, I know that something's up.”

 

At some point, Russia must have escaped Lithuania's hand because he said, “Sure you are stupid.”

 

Matthew deflated against the wall beside the door and heaved a deep sigh. Alfred promptly burst inside, fists raised and posed to fight, “I knew it! Something was going on. Why are you here, huh? And I'm not stupid.”

 

“You are. If you weren't, you'd remember Matvey inviting me to his place earlier this year.”

 

“Yeah, but Mattie would have told me if you were coming. So obviously, since you came unannounced that means that you are up to no good. And why is Lithuania here?”

 

“Toris is my friend. Now I am going to go to bed. I have a long flight. Thank you for preparing a room for us Matvey.”

 

As soon as Ivan turned his back, Alfred leapt. He punched the back of Russia's head and knocked him to the floor with the weight of his body. He got one more punch in when Russia flipped their positions so that he was on the top. With a look of glee, Russia swung his own fist and punched America in the nose.

 

Both nations moved so fast they were like a blur. Lithuania and Canada circled them, both looking for an opening to pry their lover's apart. From the fighting whirlwind came insults in both English and Russian.

 

Eventually, Canada got in and wrapped his arms around America's chest and pulled him back. Lithuania grabbed Russia's arm and did the same. Both men were covered in blood from punches and scratches. Both of their noses were busted and lips split. Alfred was huffing and glaring. Russia was giggling.

 

“That was fun, da? I will go to sleep now. Maybe we can do this again tomorrow. I plan to stay a while,” said Russia and wandered upstairs.

 

After shooting them both an apologetic look, Lithuania ran after his partner.

 

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest and went to the living room, flopping onto the couch on his back.

 

“Why didn't you say anything about Russia coming here and why did you lie to me to get me to leave?” said Alfred, voice slightly high with a whine.

 

“I didn't say anything because he showed up on my doorstep like twenty minutes ago. As for why I lied to get you to leave, I think that the blood over your face is proof enough,” said Matthew before he went and left the room.

 

He came back with a wet facecloth and a cold-pack. He gently wiped the blood off of Alfred's face before he put the cold-pack over his nose.

 

“Hold that there,” he told his still pouting lover.

 

The Matthew went, rinsed out the cloth and came back to wipe the blood off of Alfred's fists.

 

“Besides, why didn't you tell me that you were coming home from your trip early?” asked Matthew, brow risen and putting the cloth on the coffee table nearby.

 

He sat on the floor beside the couch and rested his head on Alfred's chest. Even though he had yet to say anything to Matthew, Alfred began to stroke the soft curls of hair. The backs of Alfred's fingers went down Matthew's neck and then up again.

 

“I came back because I missed you,” said Alfred.

 

The scent of Alfred's cologne registered all at once and Matthew whimpered. Alfred didn't usually put on colognes, claiming that they were too much like perfumes and therefore, uncool. But Matthew loved the way that cologne made Alfred smell. It was as if it brought out his natural muskiness and made Matthew weak at the knees.

 

So if Alfred decided to wear cologne that must meant that he had something planned. Was it another marriage proposal? Matthew thought that it may have been.

 

“Do you want to go upstairs with me? We can go to bed, or maybe more...” said Matthew, pressing a kiss to Alfred's cheek.

 

“Mmmm, sounds good. Let me get my bags from the front step and I'll meet you in your room,” said Alfred.

 

Matthew nearly ran up the steps, dodging Kumafritter who was moving his usual slow pace, and burst into his bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him. He nearly ripped his clothes off and threw them haphazardly, not caring where they landed. They'd join piles of their discarded brethren. Matthew was not a very tidy person, especially when it came to his own room

 

He went onto the bed, on his hands and knees and grabbed the lube. Right away he started to prepare his body for the pounding that he was desperate for. He knew that he'd be on the bottom, since Alfred had yet to give his own body, which was fine by Matthew. One day, he knew, Alfred would be ready for that step. Until then, Matthew got a feel that hard, throbbing cock inside of him.

 

As he slid a finger into his body, he bit his lip to avoid moaning, aware of his unexpected guests in the room a few doors down. Thankfully his walls were really thick. Matthew loved to sleep in and didn't like anything to wake him up earlier than need be, so sound didn't travel too far in his house.

 

It had been almost a week since he'd last been taken, but his body was still relaxing very quickly. He slipped a second finger in and then a third.

 

By that time, Alfred opened the door. Matthew was laying across the bed and just had to turn his head to see his lover come into the room. Alfred immediately dropped the bags and shut the door behind himself. He swallowed down the last bite of the food he'd grabbed on the way upstairs, a cookie by the looks of it and smirked.

 

“I guess this is an okay way to get back in my good books,” he said, rubbing a hand over each cheek of Matthew's ass.

 

Alfred gently moved aside Matthew's hand and grabbed the lube, thoroughly coating his own fingers before thrusting two of his own fingers inside. Matthew squirmed when America brushed lightly across his prostate.

 

“Scoot up on the bed a bit Mattie,” said America, the snick of a zipper being undone preceding his words.

 

Matthew clenched the fabric of the sheets in his hands as he waited, hole feeling empty when the fingers were removed. He didn't mind, since he knew that they'd be replaced by Alfred's dick soon.

 

However he was wrong. Alfred was rummaging through a box under Matthew's bed.

 

Oh yeah, **THE** box. Matthew felt himself grow painfully hard and twitch as he thought about what could possibly be coming.

 

Alfred circled to the side of the bed that Matthew was facing, his pants having been removed already. In his hands was a silk tie and a ball gag.

 

“I haven't had to use this since the last time Iggy came over to visit us both when we were here. Two Christmases ago if I'm correct?” said Alfred, holding up the gag.

 

Matthew licked his lips and then opened his mouth to accept what Alfred wanted to put in there. Alfred surprised him by getting onto the bed and placing the tip of his dick at Matthew's now wet lips.

 

“Why don't you suck me a bit first? I mean, my nose hurts from the fight with Russia...and...you lied to me so I'm totally sad because of that,” said Alfred sternly, but his eyes bright with amusement and a smile tugging on his lips.

 

America was never very serious when he tried to be super dominant in bed. Matthew didn't care though, he though Alfred was hot when he played at being a dom.

 

Matthew licked at the tip before Alfred tutted, “Mattie, don't tease me. Suuuck.”

 

Alfred caressed the side of Matthew's face and then ran a thumb down his lower lip, opening Canada's mouth. Slowly, he slid inside, pulsing as he went. When Matthew's hair was grabbed and tugged just enough to provide a sting of pain, he groaned around the cock in his mouth. Alfred made shallow thrusts into Matthew's mouth, very careful not to go too far.

 

If it were possible for Matthew to come without some kind of friction on his dick, this would be how it would happen. He knew he was dripping onto his sheets because he so very much loved for Alfred to fuck his mouth.

 

Soon though, Alfred grabbed the base of his own erection and pulled out gasping, “Oh, I almost came there. Close one.”

 

As he allowed himself to calm down, Alfred put the gag into Matthew's mouth, “There. I know you get super loud when we have sex and you have guests.”

 

Matthew would have said that since Alfred shared the house, the guests were both of theirs. But the ball of the gag was pretty big and didn't give Matthew room to talk.

 

“Okay. I think I'm good now. Nod if you are okay with me sliding inside of you now.”

 

Matthew nodded vigorously.

 

“Cool. Mmmm, did you miss me?” asked Alfred, tip poised at the entrance where it needed to be. “I think you did.”

 

Oh crap, Alfred was feeling chatty, which they both knew was a way to tease Matthew mercilessly. Matthew might never get sex at this rate.

 

So he tried to take things into his own hands and moved back but Alfred stopped him. Instead, America grabbed Canada's dick and began to wrap the silk tie around it tightly enough to stop any orgasms that may happen. However the man left just enough room along the middle of the erection for him to stroke and keep Matthew on the edge. Alfred did this for a while, probing his tip into Matthew's hole.

 

“I wanted you for myself this week Mattie, so I'm feeling a bit annoyed that Russia is here, as you've guessed,” said Alfred, thrusting his dick into Matthew's hole in one movement.

 

Once Alfred was balls deep, Matthew was trying to pant but unable with the gag in his mouth. Instead, he breathed out heavy puffs from his nose. He tried to move his hand to his dick but Alfred beat him to it. That work roughened hand of Alfred's made lazy strokes up and down as he kissed Matthew's back along the spine.

 

“I'll try to get along, since I know that you'll ask, but no guarantees. Better hope this sex calms me down huh?”

 

Matthew snorted and tried to move his own dick in the warm hold of Alfred's hand. God he needed more friction. His entire body felt like it was on fire as Alfred thrusted in and out.

 

All of their sex was loving, but this current act wasn't about making love. It was about relieving stressed and tension. It was playful, fun, and, on America's part, a bit of evil teasing.

 

Alfred ran his tongue over the dip between Matthew's shoulder blades and then up his neck to suck an ear lobe in his mouth. He moved back just enough to whisper, “This is so hot tonight. I should get into a fight right before sex with you more often.”

 

Two more hard thrusts, “Not with you though. I'd never get aroused from hitting you.”

 

Not once had Alfred stopped stroking and Matthew was about to explode. Alfred's own breath was becoming more and more ragged and he'd stopped talking. Slowly and carefully, the tie was undone and Matthew erupted.

 

Stream after stream of cum spurted from him, painting the blue bed sheets and Alfred's golden tanned hand in white cream. If the gag hadn't been in his mouth, a scream would have echoed around the room, and maybe even the guest room. Alfred followed soon after, pulsing and filling Canada with his release.

 

Both men collapsed on the sides, across the bed, legs dangling off the edge. Alfred unbuckled the gag and took it out, tossing it to the ground to be washed later. They both met in a kiss, tongue brushing against one another in a lazy, sated fashion. Their hands caressed each other's bodies, every inch of skin.

 

Eventually they got under the covers and snuggled together. As they drifted off, they both whispered, “I love you.”

 

#

 

Blinking lazily in the dim rays of sun that filtered in through the curtains, Alfred sat up. It was still early morning, and not surprisingly, Mattie was still fast asleep. He was never to be disturbed before at least ten in the morning, though he preferred noon. Looking at the alarm clock's red numbers, Alfred found out that it was late for himself to be up.

 

Seven am.

 

He loved the mornings and sometimes liked to try to lure Mattie awake with coffee.

 

Yeah, that's what he'd do. Fill one of his lover's huge mugs, put just the right amounts of cream and sugar into it and bring it upstairs.

 

Then America could start with the plans that he'd made with France and England. He'd stun Canada with his romantic skills and then Mattie would have no choice but to fall to his knees and agree to marry Alfred.

 

With a giant grin on his face, Alfred slipped on some of his American flag boxers from the dresser. He walked downstairs, whistling a happy tune.

 

He nearly jumped to the ceiling and shrieked in an unmanly fashion when he saw Russia sitting at Canada's kitchen table, Lithuania beside him.

 

“Good morning comrade,” said Ivan, head cocked ever so slightly.

 

Toris whispered furiously into Ivan ear, loud enough that Alfred heard him, “We talked about this. You promised to behave.”

 

“Aren't I?” grinned Ivan before he sipped some of the tea he'd made, not breaking eye contact.

 

When the events of last night came back to Alfred, he groaned and then held his head, “Great. You're still here. Right.”

 

His happy whistles ceased and he began filling up the coffee filter with a tin of coffee Mattie had bought from 'Tim Horton's'.

 

“What will it take for you to go away?” grumbled Alfred after he'd filled the coffee maker with water and turned around, leaning against the counter.

 

Russia tapped his chin in thought before saying, “Become one with me?”

 

Lithuania scowled at his partner and smacked his arm, which didn't even seem to phase Russia.

 

America scoffed, “In your dreams. Just go away. Go to a hotel or something and enjoy the sights of this country. Just. Do. It. Somewhere. Else.”

 

“Ummm, let me think,” said Russia, making a show of being deep in thought and sipping his drink before he finally answered, “No.”

 

“Stupid commie jerk.”

 

Lithuania glared at Ivan and said to Alfred, “Can't we all get along?”

 

Alfred shook his head, “No, I have huge romantic plans and that guy,” he said, pointing at Russia, “Is ruining them by being here.”

 

Toris then narrowed his eyes at Alfred, “He does have a name y'know.”

 

The coffee was done by then and Alfred when about pouring two mugs of it. Mattie would want caffeine first before breakfast.

 

“I'll take Mattie out for breakfast first and you will be gone by then, right.”

 

“Nope,” said Ivan, bringing the cup that he was using, as well as Toris' to the sink.

 

Alfred left the room, arms in the air and incredibly frustrated. He had no idea how Mattie could be friends with such an irritating guy. Seriously.

 

He needed to think of a way to get rid of Russia, and not piss Mattie off in the process.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Timmies, Oprah, The Weather Network or Starbucks.

**Chapter Three**

 

After going back into the kitchen with a sheepish look on his face in order to get Mattie's coffee, Alfred went back upstairs. He studiously ignored Russia's cackling when he had to go back. Seriously, that guy, what a creep.

 

Soon he was back upstairs, watching Mattie lay curled up on the bed. There was a thin trickle of drool slipping down his cheek and light snores floating up from him. Alfred put the coffee down on the bedside stand and kissed Mattie's dry cheek.

 

“Wakey, wakey,” said Alfred, slowly, inch by inch trying to lower the blanket off of Mattie.

 

“G'way,” grumbled Mattie, tugging the blanket back up and over his head.

 

Mattie turned around and nearly promptly feel back asleep and resumed his snoring.

 

“I made cooooffffeeee. I know you want it,” said Alfred, singsonging and making his fingers walk up the back of Mattie's head.

 

Before the Canadian could really do anything, Alfred ripped the blanket off and threw it aside. He then leapt off of the bed and away from the fist that immediately began flailing.

 

“Go t'hell. M'sleepy,” slurred Canada, who grabbed the nearest pillow and hurling it at Alfred.

 

“There's coffee right beside you. The stuff you like best too,” said Alfred who tried to come a bit closer.

 

He'd forgotten all about Kumajirou, who also disliked mornings. The little bear bit Alfred's hand, just enough to hurt but not break the skin and then curled up beside Mattie again.

 

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Kumajirou bit me Mattie,” said Alfred, standing away from the bed.

 

“Well, you should know better than to wake us up early,” said Mattie, who then yawned and sat up.

 

The sitting up process was very slow. America could never understand how somebody could be so lax about mornings. The early you woke up, the better. But those cute stretches that Mattie made, arms in the air, exposing a bit of stomach.

 

So worth the hassle.

 

Beside, if Mattie ever started becoming a morning person, Alfred would probably be worried.

 

“The coffee's good as usual,” said Mattie, humming in appreciation, “So what's so important that you needed to wake me up at...seven-forty-five? Geez Al.”

 

Kumajirou also didn't fall asleep, but stayed beside Mattie, glaring at Alfred, “You didn't bring me anything.”

 

Alfred blinked a few times before saying, “Oh, well, I didn't think about it.”

 

“Next time I bite you it will bleed,” said the polar bear and then hopped off of the bed to wander out of the room.

 

“He's always so moody,” said Alfred with a laugh, “But anyway, you and me are going to go out for breakfast.”

 

Mattie smiled, “Did you invite Ivan and Toris? I'm sure they'd like to experience my fine cuisine.”

 

Alfred grumbled, “No, I didn't. And I'm not going to.”

 

So much for not ticking Mattie off. The opposite happened. Mattie narrowed his eyes and balled the fist that wasn't holding a coffee cup.

 

“Look here mister. They are my guests. I don't care what kind of marriage proposal plans you had, just set them aside for now okay. It's no excuse to be rude.”

 

Alfred felt a flush go over his face. He knew that part of Mattie's temper was from being woken up too early, It always made the man a bit grumpy. But did he have to be so mean? And besides...

 

“Russia started it,” said Alfred, choosing to ignore the comment on marriage proposals.

 

Mattie put down his half finished mug and got off the bed, grabbing clean clothes from the dresser.

 

“I understand that he isn't innocent in this feud of yours by any means. But you could be the bigger man and try to get along. Think about that while I go to have a shower.”

 

However Alfred followed Mattie. When he thought about his actions later, he decided that he'd really start thinking things through and he'd curse his lack of hindsight.

 

Right then, though, Alfred didn't want to back down from what he perceived as a fight. Heroes didn't lose, and America was totally right about this.

 

“So why don't you go downstairs and be all grumpy at Russia?”

 

Mattie looked over while sliding off his boxers and started the shower so that the water would warm up. Alfred vowed that after he got rid of Russia and proposed, he'd get Mattie a better water heater and install it for the man.

 

“Number one: Ivan didn't wake me up too early. Number two: I expect more from you,” said Mattie, stepping into the shower and closing the curtains around the tub.

 

“What's that mean?” said Alfred, not wanting to jump to conclusions but kind of upset because that sounded like an insult or something.

 

The shower curtains were slightly see-through and he saw Mattie hold his head and mumble.

 

“Alfred, I can't think this early in the morning. Can we talk about this later?”

 

“Fine!” said Alfred, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

He got dressed and went back downstairs. The kitchen contained Russia doing dishes as Lithuania cooked. Alfred would have thought that the situation was sort of cute if he wasn't so freaking angry.

 

This was all Russia's fault. Somehow. He knew it.

 

“You know, the cold war is over dude. So you can just stop being such a fricking ass, or I'll have to punch you in the face again.”

 

Russia placed a cup into the dish rack and removed one of the yellow dish gloves that Mattie kept draped over the faucet and looked hopeful, “Can we fight then? After breakfast?”

 

“I'd rather hit you now. And stop smiling all the time. What's wrong with you?” asked Alfred.

 

Russia's response, of course, was a wider smile.

 

Just as both men started circling each other, Lithuania on the sidelines, frantically waving a spatula and begging for everybody to calm down, Mattie entered the room.

 

Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes tight and nostrils flaring, Mattie said, “You know what? Toris, would you like to go out for breakfast with me...alone?”

 

“What about these two?” asked Lithuania turning off the stove and placing down his the utensil that had been in his hands.

 

Mattie shrugged and walked calmly from the room, Kumajirou on his heels (probably following the most likely prospect of food). Alfred hardly even heard a single one of his lover's footsteps and all of his words had been whispered even more quietly than normal.

 

Canada was super pissed.

 

Alfred and Ivan listened as their lovers dressed for a walk that Mattie suggested after their food and then left.

 

Where did he go from here?

 

#

 

“The two of them are such children,” exclaimed Toris from the passenger's seat.

 

“Tell me about it. Part of me wonders if that was why I was drawn to becoming friends with Ivan. In a weird way, he reminds me of Alfred. A big kid.”

 

“They're both so stubborn too,” suggested Toris, “When we go back to your house later, it will be in ruins and both of them will blame the other.”

 

Matthew wanted to lean his head on the steering wheel but couldn’t, since he was driving, “Crud, I didn't even think about that. But at least Al is good at repairs.”

 

“W-well that's good,” said Lithuania, trailing off and fidgeting in his seat.

 

“Would you like to go to Timmies?” asked Matthew, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't driving with Alfred.

 

If he had somebody in the car with him, it was always Al. Otherwise he was alone.

 

“What's that?” asked Toris.

 

“Silly me, I forgot that you didn't know. It's a coffee shop, but they sell lots of yummy foods too.”

 

So Matthew drove through the drive-through of one that was just inside of town, it didn't take long to find one. In a Canadian city, there was nearly always a Tim Horton's just about anywhere you could look. And if there wasn't a Tim's there were likely plans for building one nearby. Alfred compared it to the Starbucks in his country.

 

They got a box of donuts, coffees, and even breakfast sandwiches. Matthew hardly ever ate the delicious sausage breakfast sandwiches, since he was never up early enough. Toris just trusted Matthew in what to get, since he said that he couldn't really decide.

 

Then they were off.

 

“I know a great trail, but it's a bit of a drive. I know I'd sure like to clear my mind a bit. What about you?”

 

“Oh yes. I would, and I haven't been on a nice hike in a while just for pleasure.”

 

“It's a bit rough though, but thankfully you brought good boots,” said Matthew and then took a long gulp of coffee.

 

He thought about the abandoned cup that Alfred had made for him. It had tasted good. Oh well. It was just bribe coffee. He was still annoyed at Alfred, so he chose to think that, even if he knew deep down that Al made that drink mostly out of love.

 

“Hey, you. I want a donut,” whined Kumayama, who hopped from the backseat onto the area beside both front seats.

 

“Holy moly, I didn't know your pet could speak. Scared me there for a moment,” said Toris, holding onto his chest, “I forget sometimes that other nations have talking animals.”

 

Kumayama put a paw on Lithuania, who was holding the box of pastries, and tried to speak quietly into the man's ear, “Get me one of those donuts, okay?”

 

Matthew rolled his eyes and said, “Jeepers, fine. Toris, can you please give him one of the ones without a glaze.”

 

“Why?” asked the bear, placing his snout onto Lithuania's arm, not looking at his owner out of some kind of protest.

 

“Because too much sugar isn't good for a polar bear.”

 

Regardless of his complaints, the bear took the treat into the back seat and was heard munching on it happily.

 

It was a half-an hour later that they arrived at the trail that Matthew had in mind. A good way to blow off some steam, and go back to a house where hopefully, the two stubborn and dominant nations would be out of energy from beating each other snot-less.

 

The trees were mostly empty of leaves, however some still clung to their branches, adding speckles of orange, red and yellow to the scenery. There were some clouds in the distance, but Canada didn't feel any immediate threat of snow in his bones and was too frustrated to gauge the weather further. Aside from the distant clouds, the sky was a nice blue. There wasn't a breeze, just a cool nip to the air.

 

Matthew opened the trunk of his car and took out a backpack for each of them. He kept a small bag full of basic hiking supplies for both him and Alfred. One never knew when the urge to hike would strike, and Alfred loved to go on random adventures when the mood took him. Canada always wanted to be safe so he never hiked unprepared.

 

“We haven't even begun our walk and it is already so pretty,” said Toris and Matthew hummed in agreement.

 

Both nations didn't really say much, full on treats and coffee, and happy to simply enjoy the sounds of nature. Matthew strayed from the beaten path every now and then because he could. He'd lived in these lands for so long that he'd become intrinsically connected to them. All it would take was a bit of focus and he could discern how to get anywhere. So Matthew would never get lost.

 

After three hours had passed by in a blur, the two men sat down to snack on some of the trail mix that Matthew had put in the bags the previous week. They sat beside a brook that Canada had determined would have relatively fresh water. A nation couldn't get sick by conventional means of germs and bacteria, so Matthew only need to search for good tasting water.

 

“Do you want to head back yet?” asked Matthew, knowing that he was able to hike for much longer than others tended to enjoy.

 

“Ummm, if you don't mind, can we go up that hill area so that I can take a photo. As you've noticed, I've been taking lots so that Russia can see. I know that he'll want to. Partially because he'll enjoy the nature and partially out of jealousy and making sure I wasn't out making friends with somebody that he wouldn't approve of.”

 

Getting up and easily working his way up the rather steep hill, Matthew called back, “Doesn't that sound a bit too possessive to you? I'd never let Alfred make me take pictures to prove I wasn't doing something he didn't like.”

 

“Oh, that sounded bad, huh? He doesn't ask for anything. I've just been around him long enough now that I am starting to understand how he thinks. He'll wonder who was trying to take me away from him, but since he's so worried about messing up between us, he'll never ask. So I come back with some nice pictures to show him where I was and act like I was just showing him about my day.”

 

Matthew nodded, “And it alleviates his worry. Smart.”

 

They were both quiet for a while as they climbed up the large rocks, finding stable footing. As they climbed and walked, they rose above the treeline and Matthew could see the clouds that he'd ignored before were nearly overhead. They were darker than he'd first noticed and he wondered if it would snow.

 

It didn't matter too much though. The walk back wasn't too long, only a few hours, and for northern dwelling nations, the cold wouldn't affect either of them in that short of a time.

 

Once up at the top, Matthew saw that they were near the edge of a cliff. It wasn't incredibly high and overlooked a river. The tops of the rest of the trees were visible for miles, branches jutting out to the sky. A sharp wind blasted at Matthew from behind. Right about then, Alfred would be starting to shiver and Matthew would drape an arm about the man's shoulders. He draw America close and kiss his cheek. If he had been there with him.

 

Matthew covered his eyes and sighed. He'd been too rough on Alfred that morning. As soon as he got home, he'd apologize. Maybe he'd bring back a couple of hamburgers and some fries as a peace offering. Or a giant t-bone steak. He'd bake some potatoes and cover them in just the right amount of cheese, butter and chives that Alfred lik-

 

One more gust of wind blew at Matthew just as he stepped too far. If he'd been paying more attention, He'd have noticed that the ground wasn't too sound where he was. If he had been on unstable ground without the wind, he'd have been able to jump aside. If only Lithuania had been facing his direction and had seen the peril.

 

If only...

 

Crumbling beneath him, the rocks tumbled to the river below him and he followed. His hand grasped desperately at the cliff face to any kind of purchase, but failed. From the cliff above he heard Lithuania scream his name right before he hit the icy waters.

 

#

 

Alfred sat on one of the recliners in the living room as he wound a bandage over a cut on his forearm. He occasionally glared at Ivan, who was cleaning out a wound on his leg through the cut that had been made on his pants.

 

The two men were panting, bruised, bloodied and simply too tired to fight any longer. It had been hours, and with nobody else around to pull them apart, they'd fought until they collapsed.

 

“That was good fun. It has been a long while that I had a fight outside of war,” said Ivan, spraying on some antiseptic without a single wince of pain at the sting.

 

“Geez, are you made of stone or something. That stuff stings like crazy.”

 

Russia chuckled wearily, “I could probably drink it and be fine. Nothing is stronger than Russian vodka.”

 

“Except maybe your own stupidity.”

 

“What was that comrade?”

 

America was about to comment but flopped down in his seat and put aside the bandages, “Never mind, I'm too tired to fight you anymore. Never thought I'd say that.”

 

“Okay. So how long do you think Matvey will have Toris out for?”

 

Propping his legs up over one arm of the chair and leaning against the other, Alfred said, “Who knows. Mattie goes on super long walks all the time.”

 

Russia was quiet for a good long while, and America took the time to channel surf. There wasn't much on at that time in the early afternoon. Reality show. Reality show. Soap. Soap. Soap. Talk show that wasn't Oprah, so America didn't care.

 

After a while, Alfred settled on watching the weather network since it was the most interesting thing that was on. The temperatures in his country were awesome, which didn't surprise him. Then it went back to the weather in Canada, since it was a Canadian channel he was watching after all.

 

When they got to what it was like in the area of Ontario that they were in, Alfred paid closer attention. A storm was coming in, a really bad one. Sudden temperature drops, high snow fall.

 

But Mattie would be alright though. The nation knew his was around his forests like nobody's business and could withstand cold in a way that Alfred never could.

 

Therefore he'd be okay. Right?

 

So why was there a sinking feeling in the pit of Alfred's stomach?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So change of plans I guess, this isn't going to be as fluffy as I'd hoped. *sigh* Blame the little angst demon inside of me that only comes out when I write. I can promise you a happy ending. I hate tragedies (my poor widdle heart can't handle them; I cry, profusely). I just expected Canada and Lithuania to get stranded by the snow storm and then America and Russia would have to save them. I didn't see this coming. Oh well. This is what we get I guess.

**Chapter Four**

 

Why hadn't he been paying more attention to what was going on?

 

This was one of the many thoughts that was racing through Lithuania's mind as he hastily tried to find a way down to the bottom of the cliff. He tried to descend on the side the river under it was running towards. The small white bear that Canada considered a pet led the way, hopping down as fast as it could go. Every place that the bear stepped seemed to be sturdy enough for Lithuania, so he followed it.

 

Sure enough he got to the bottom safely.

 

The river didn't look very deep but it was pretty fast and still enough to drown somebody. Even nations needed oxygen.

 

The bear had it's black nose in the air, sniffing before it's eyes darted in one direction.

 

“Do you know where Canada is?” asked Toris, the crunch of small stones under his boots, the rush of water beside him.

 

The animal didn't speak and Lithuania wondered if it heard him. It ran not too far, leaping over a large piece of soaked driftwood to land beside his owner. It crouched near Canada's face and licked the man's cheek.

 

Toris gasped when he saw the other nation. Canada's arm was bent at the wrong angle. There was a large gash in his forehead which bled profusely in the water that lapped against it, clouding the water a ghastly red. Cuts and scrapes covered his hands and all exposed skin.

 

Toris knew that this was just what he could see, but he wasn't a doctor. He didn't know exactly what to expect.

 

As he took a few steps towards the prone man, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the previously friendly polar bear snarled at him. It's teeth were pearly white and it's head was lowered, ears back. It snorted and looked ready to charge.

 

Gone was the seemingly domesticated animal and with Canada injured, it had gone wild.

 

Lithuania hoped that it had, at least, some form of reasoning remained, “H-Hey. You remember me, right? Lithuania. I need to help your owner over there. He's badly hurt.”

 

Another snort and a faint hissing sound.

 

“In the car, remember? I gave you a donut.”

 

A flash of something passed through the animal's eyes just long enough for it to cease it's show of aggression and step aside. It still watched Toris carefully.

 

In comparison to other nations, Toris wasn't overly strong. He grabbed Canada as carefully as he could by the man's armpits and dragged him ashore. Laying Canada on his back, Toris whipped off the backpack he'd been given and got out the first aid kit that he'd seen back when they'd stopped to have a snack.

 

First things were first: he cleaned and bandaged that gaping wound on Canada's head. He then searched the man's body for any other parts that were bleeding and bandaged them as well. He tried as best as he could to straighten Canada's broken arm. When the man didn't wake up or flinch at all from the pain of moving the broken arm, Toris knew it was even worse than he had imagined. He didn't want to risk removing clothes yet and had nothing dry to change him into, so he put one of the thin and portable thermal silver blankets over the man and tucked it around him.

 

At least Canada was still breathing.

 

As soon as Lithuania stood up to gather his bearings, the bear went back to licking at Canada. Toris took out his cell phone and opened it. But there were no bars on his phone. No possible service.

 

Drat. He couldn't leave Canada so vulnerable and he didn't remember how to get back. These lands weren't even close to his own, so he had no connection to them at all. He couldn't find his way back using his abilities as a nation.

 

A flake of snow fell onto his nose and Toris looked around to see even more falling to the ground and fast.

 

Lithuania needed to work on making a shelter and getting Canada warm.

 

Thankfully not too far away from where he was, in the cliff was an alcove, large enough to sit under. He started to pile rocks in a u-shape in front of it. There were enough large stones and big branches to provide a wall. The floor had a layer of insulating pine needles, and fallen leaves. Within an hour, give or take, he had a decent shelter. If he didn't have centuries of experience in surviving in the cold, the building would have taken much longer and been far sloppier. Right on the outside of it, he attached a bright orange strip of plastic that he'd found in the backpacks.

 

As he did all of this, he refused to think about anything. He didn't want to panic or get his stomach too upset. Not only did he miss Russia furiously, he was worried about what America would say if something happened to Canada. America wasn't exactly known for his calm and cool demeanour.

 

Dragging Canada took a lot longer because Lithuania didn't know if his spine was broken and so moved the man very slowly. A nation, given lots of time, could heal from a spinal injury. However Lithuania didn't want to increase the healing time required or even, heaven forbid, cause the man's death somehow.

 

At the peak of his reign, the legendary 'Roman Empire' probably would have recovered from injuries such as these in a couple of days. He'd had so much land and so much prosperity.

 

Times were different nowadays. The economy was never perfect and lately, you would always hear a sneeze or two at the table at World Meetings. No nation was in perfect health anymore. So Toris was, frankly, quite concerned for Canada's well-being.

 

Lithuania's gathered as much kindling as he could to keep it dry and away from the snow. Then he started a fire. He made sure that there was proper ventilation for the smoke of the fire. Then, to keep Canada warm, he lay next to the nation under the thin thermal blanket. The polar bear rested around Canada's face in order to lend the man it's body heat.

 

#

 

It was nighttime. Nine pm and Mattie still wasn't home. Not even a word from him. Was Mattie really that mad at him? What if something happened to Mattie while he was out?

 

Russia was sitting on the end couch as far away from America's pacing as he could be. The man was knitting furiously with a grim expression on his face. His lips were pursed.

 

“Aren't you worried about Lithuania even a little bit?” asked Alfred, stopping in front of Ivan and putting his fists on his hips.

 

“Da, of course I am.”

 

Alfred didn't see it, but he was told that he often didn't see the obvious in people's emotions.

 

Based on everything that Lithuania had told him many years ago, Russia couldn't possibly miss the guy. Maybe things had changed though. After all, Mattie kept trying to tell Alfred that Ivan wasn't too bad of a guy.

 

Upon staring at him for a while, Alfred did begin to notice some things that were different about how Ivan was acting right then. For instance, the guy kept fidgeting and checking his phone.

 

So maybe the guy was worried after all?

 

“Okay, there's one thing that I can do, even though Mattie made me promise never to do it unless it was an emergency.”

 

“Well it is snowing quite hard out there, and it happened so suddenly. Perhaps they got stranded somewhere?” suggested Russia, “What are you going to do?”

 

Alfred ran to the other room and grabbed his laptop. He booted it up, which happened pretty fast since all of his stuff was high-tech and well-maintained.

 

“Mattie hates that I do this, but I'm sort of possessive. So I put a GPS tracking chip on Mattie's car. It's pretty good, so it can tell me how long the car has been where it is.”

 

Ivan hummed, “Impressive. Perhaps you can teach me how to do that to Toris' car?”

 

Alfred grumbled and said, “Maybe.”

 

The program that he needed was located quickly and soon Mattie's car was registered.

 

“It's been there for over nine hours. Duuuude, that not good. What could have happened?”

 

“No chance that he got lost?”

 

Alfred shook his head, “Come on, that only happens to really young nations and even then only when they are in disconnect somehow with their lands. Now a chance would that happen to Mattie-the-nature-lover.”

 

Shit, shit, shit. Time for the big guns.

 

He whipped out his phone and dialled a number that he knew by heart.

 

“Hello? Boss? I need a fleet of military 'copters. A team of trained soldiers, the best of the best. There's a missing...What do you mean why? There's a missing person. No the cops can't deal with it. It has to be me. Because I said so...It is **SO** important...No....why? I don't think I ask for this **THAT** often...Sir...Sir?....Okay fine.”

 

Then he ended the call.

 

Hands behind his back, Alfred paced once more, feeling Russia's stare bore into his back.

 

“So change of plans. I'm going in without help from my boss because he isn't being cool right now. You gotta come be my assistant though.”

 

Puffing out his chest, Alfred tried to think positively. Last time he blew everything out of proportion back when he went to Russia to attempt to save Mattie from Ivan's clutches, everything blew up. Ivan's fountain literally blew up because Alfred chucked a grenade into it.

 

He had to think this through and be optimistic. No doing stupid things.

 

The good thing was that Mattie had a basement full of everything the two of them would need to survive in the winter. He went down to the basement and into a large room.

 

Russia had followed and when he saw the shelves upon shelves of gear and supplies, he gasped, “I had no idea that Matvey would have so many useful items.”

 

“Yeah. I keep telling him that with this, and his supply of food storage in the next room to this, he could survive the apocalypse no problem. So here, night vision goggles, thermal clothes, pick some of these fire-starters, flares...hmm, let's see.”

 

Alfred knew that Mattie kept a backpack in the trunk of his car and that the man would take it with him on a hike. He'd wanted to tag them with trackers but was never alone with the bags before he forgot. Now he really regretted not doing so.

 

Once two bags of supplies were filled and the men were geared up appropriately, they went upstairs and outside. As soon as they opened the door, Alfred saw the problem. Enough ice and snow had fallen to make it so that his mustang wouldn't be able to drive fast or even safely through the storm to get to Mattie. The car that Russia must have rented wasn't much better.

 

“What do we do now?” said Alfred, trying to still sound like he was calm, but knowing that Ivan could likely hear the frustration in his voice anyway.

 

“Does Matvey have ATVs?” asked Russia.

 

Oh, Alfred hadn't thought of that. Though surely he would have, given enough time on his own.

 

“Yep. We'll take those.”

 

Getting them out of the shed and strapping extra cans of gas to the back of both, they were on their way.

 

Alfred had a weather-proof GPS device, so knowing where to go and how to get there was easy. The trip to Mattie's car wouldn't take as long as it would have on the roads, since the trails were more direct with a bit of cutting through fields. From there, Alfred didn't know how far they'd be able to drive, since Mattie never seemed to be able to stay on the marked trails. Not that America was much better and he knew it.

 

With Russia trailing behind practically inches away from America's ATV in a creepy way that only that man could pull off, they came upon the car.

 

Now all Alfred had to do was think like Canada.

 

Easier said than done.

 

#

 

Night fell fast that time of year, and Lithuania shivered against the cold that still tried to creep in. Wolves howled in the distance, muted by the steadily piling snow. Canada shivered under him, but not as hard as he had been. Toris supposed that being against him and the bear was helping.

 

Lithuania made sure that he himself stayed energized even if Canada had yet to wake up. He offered some jerky to the polar bear but the creature didn't take the food. It didn't respond at all.

 

How was he going to get them noticed?

 

He needed to do something now that Canada was more stable.

 

He went outside and snapped a bunch of pine branches from some trees. He shook off the snow and gathered enough branches to cover Canada with to help insulate the man in Lithuania's absence.

 

Then Toris took the flashlight from his bag, since Canada's was still damp and some of the orange strips of plastic markers as well as a flare and one of the lighters.

 

Then he headed off, marking the forest as he went, so he wouldn't get lost. Everything had become very icy, so what had been a hike that provided a nice exercise and a small bit of challenge, became a threat. Lithuania had to spend a while finding a safe way up the cliff which had obviously been dangerous enough.

 

Every now and again, along with the bright markers, he made markers with branches in an arrow shape.

 

Once he had gone as far enough as he was willing, he considered setting off his flare but decided against it. He had no idea how long it would take America and Russia to find them.

 

When he went back to the little shelter that he had made, he saw that Canada's eyes were slitted open. Lithuania took the branches from him and used them to further cover the entrance. Then he lay right close to the man.

 

Canada's lips were moving and quiet words were rasped out. Lithuania felt his blood run cold when he heard what the man said.

 

“I can't feel my legs.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an end note, I hope all the details about survival didn't bore you. When I read, I love details. I'm a nerd for that sort of thing, and researching new ideas. I learned so much about how to survive in winter! So I apologize if you had to skim out of sheer boredom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 

Cold. A deep chilling freeze that ran through his body to it's very core. That was what Matthew first felt when he awoke, alone.

 

Not quite alone actually. As soon as his breathing changed to that of being conscious, Kumajama began to furiously lick at his face and snuggle closer. Normally Matthew would say something to stop him, but it was so comforting that he didn't want to.

 

Why was he so alone? Where was Alfred?

 

Oh God he missed Alfred. Those strong arms around his body, holding him close and tight and so very very warm. Kisses all over his face.

 

He cracked his eyes to find himself in a shelter made of rocks and covered by branches from a pine tree. His clothes were damp but since his sweater was wool, he wasn't losing too much heat. His pants were denim though. He wondered, therefore why he couldn't even feel a numbness in his legs. He should be able to feel something, even just pain from the cold or warmth from approaching hypothermia.

 

One of his arms felt so painful that Matthew assumed that it must have been broken in the fall, and the other was aching but not as much. He wanted to probe at his face but didn't want to move from out of the thermal blanket or branches.

 

Lithuania came back after some time passed, Matthew had no idea just how long. His body hurt too much to try to keep track. Toris took the branches off and laid close to Matthew in order to transfer body heat.

 

Matthew whispered out in a dry voice, “I can't feel my legs.”

 

Toris looked over, blue eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you think that you have frostbite in them?”

 

“I-I don't know. If I do have frostbite in them, it's so bad that I can't feel anything below my hips.”

 

“M-Maybe you're just cold.”

 

“Maybe,” said Matthew, since he was so very chilled.

 

“You should have some food, keep your energy up. Can you still chew?”

 

Matthew nodded and took the offered granola bar with his uninjured hand and chewed it slowly. He was so glad that he'd brought those backpacks. He'd done it mostly out of habit. In general, he was really good at surviving off of the land.

 

Once he finished the food and handed the garbage off to Lithuania to get rid of, Matthew said, “Is there any cell reception out here?”

 

His voice was shaky and he felt tired just from saying so much. He was discouraged when Lithuania shook his head, “No, but I wonder how long it will take America and Russia to come for us.”

 

America.

 

Matthew closed his eyes for just a moment and allowed himself to drift, imagining Alfred bursting onto the scene, all smiles and flexed muscles. He'd probably jump out of a helicopter. Alfred would sweep Matthew up into his arms and kiss his injuries away.

 

A soft tap was made to the side of his face and Toris said, “You should wake up Canada, I don't know that you should let yourself fall asleep again for a while.”

 

“I guess. Besides, knowing Alfred, he is probably on his way right now.”

 

“With Ivan on his heels,” said Lithuania, wiggling closer for warmth as Matthew felt him shiver.

 

“I should change your bandage again,” said Lithuania once more, getting out the supplies and removing the wrappings on Matthew's head, “This was the only major gash that I could find. The others didn't look too bad and they'd expose more of your body to get at. But I can clean this one again.”

 

After that was done, Matthew said, “Is the snow dying down?”

 

Toris looked out of the shelter and said, “It's not as bad as it was before.”

 

Matthew closed his eyes and tried to focus. All he got was a headache and grew so very very tired. He couldn't connect to his lands or the weather on them.

 

“I can't...tell...if it'll get....better,” he said taking large breaks between sections of his speech.

 

“Just rest, don't talk. You kept your flares in a plastic bag, so the one that was in your backpack should be still dry. I'll light mine now.”

 

Matthew made a soft noise from the back of his throat and tried to keep his eyes open for as long as he could. However not long after Toris left the shelter, he drifted off into sleep once more.

 

#

 

Ice crunching under his boots as he went to the closest tree and spoke to the approaching Russia, “Mattie is one of my closest neighbours. The only other country attached physically to me is Mexico. We've been allied for so long that sometimes I can feel his land if I really think hard. Lemme try, okay.”

 

At first, when he focused, all he felt was his country to the south and a big windy expanse of emptiness north of it. Bringing the image of what his country looked like, he slowly expanded it up towards the arctic circle, like filling in the blanks. What seemed like forever and inch by in, the lands came to him. They were blurred and distant, like he was watching them from outer space.

 

If he'd been in his own lands and focused, Alfred would have been able to hear every bird chirp, every rock move in every stream and each drop of water flowing through the rivers. He'd know where people were, animals and any organic material. If he meditated further, he'd see buildings, cars, and refined metals. Within a few miles of where Alfred stood, the area felt more detailed than the rest of the country but just barely. He could see colours, basic shapes and hear any loud noises.

 

He just hoped Canada and Lithuania weren't too far away, or Alfred probably wouldn't find them using this method.

 

So he was thankful that he saw it, almost beyond his scope of perception, despite the snow still falling. A large plume of smoke, a signal flare. It was distant but Alfred drew his consciousness closer and saw another nation. Two nations. Alfred knew they were nations because one of them, who was holding the flare was at utter disconnect with these lands. He looked hallow and dark to Alfred's nation senses. It must be Toris, since his country was so far away and didn't have any specific allied connections to Canada.

 

The other was Canada himself. He'd know it anywhere. The energy the man exuded was bright and the nature around him appeared to flow into his body. It was like staring into a sun and Alfred quickly opened his eyes, blinking the brightness away.

 

He stumbled back and held his head in his hands, “I know where they are.”

 

The trip to get to them could be made over halfway on the ATVs. Then America and Russia had to walk. Alfred kept checking his cell phone to see where he still retained reception.

 

Time went by sluggishly as Alfred waited to see what he'd find. Why had Lithuania been using the flare? Why couldn't they have walked back? This weather wasn't that bad, considering. The two could have at least gone back to the car if they'd been healthy and uninjured.

 

They came across markers on the ground and little orange plastic strips tied to places, marking further where they had to go. The trail led around to a river and eventually a cliff.

 

“Hello? Mattie? Lithuania?” called Alfred in his loudest possible voice.

 

Lithuania came wiggling out of a rocky shelter that somebody had built into a hallow of the cliff, “Oh thank god. You need to go get help. My phone is crappy and I don't get reception even when I made a trail of markers. Canada is hurt. Bad.”

 

Lithuania ran at Russia and leapt into the man's arms, whispering into the guy's ears. Alfred no longer cared, his entire world narrowed onto what Toris had said.

 

Injured? Hurt? Mattie?

 

Alfred didn't even remember getting into the shelter. He just saw Mattie, laying battered, bruised and shivering. He lay down beside him and peppered kisses gently to Mattie's face.

 

“Wake up. I'm here for you,” said Alfred, as quietly as he could while still being able to be heard.

 

Mattie's eyes slid open slowly and only a crack, “Where's your helicopter?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“And you aren't flexing your muscles.”

 

Alfred was confused but didn't care. Mattie was talking, and that was a good thing right?

 

“I'm going to go call for help, okay? But I will be right back.”

 

Mattie touched Alfred's face and said, “Okay. Tell them I can't feel my legs.”

 

Alfred had just been about to crawl out of the shelter when he zipped back, “W-what?”

 

But Mattie had fallen back asleep.

 

Can't feel his legs? Oh fuck!

 

He ran out and flew out to Russia. He put his hands on the taller man's shoulders and shook him, “You gotta stay here with Mattie and Lithuania. I gotta go get help. Please?”

 

Ivan's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Alfred was too panicked to realize that he'd just asked Russia for help for the first time ever, and said please to boot. All he could think of was going to the exact coordinates that he'd last had reception at.

 

He didn't wait for an answer. He just ran. Ran until his lungs burned in the cool air and his chest hurt. The only reason he slowed was to keep his eyes on his GPS.

 

He whipped his phone out and made the call to nine-one-one.

 

All he knew, was that whoever answered his call was going to send a whole fleet of helicopters if they had to. Mattie was going to get the best service in the whole world.

 

#

 

Everything went by in a blur. Alfred stayed on long enough to give coordinates and tell everything that he knew, which wasn't much other than Mattie was badly injured and couldn't feel his legs. He always acted too rashly, but he was worried for Mattie and couldn't think straight.

 

He went back and stayed by Mattie's side until the medical helicopter arrived. Who knows how long it had taken? Alfred didn't. He just lay by his lover's side. Mattie kept sleeping, wouldn't rouse. Maybe he'd gone into shock or something.

 

He remembered the paramedics looking over Mattie and loading in on the stretcher. He remembered Russia needing to hold him back, barely even able, when Alfred wasn't allowed to be on the helicopter with Mattie. They'd probably thought he was crazy when he kept yelling about Mattie being Canada and a nation.

 

The paramedics had made sure that the three of them weren't injured and could get back by themselves and weren't stranded.

 

Walking back to the ATVs and driving them was also a blur. It was a wonder he hadn't crashed into a tree. All that ran through his mind was Mattie, Mattie, Mattie, Mattie, Mattie.

 

They drove the ATVs to Mattie's house, since the keys to the car were still in Mattie's pants pockets. By the time they arrived to the house, it was morning again. Plows had cleared the roads and a neighbour had come along and cleared Mattie's driveway. Canadians were so nice to one another.

 

The paramedics had told Alfred what hospital that Mattie was going to, which was The Ottawa Hospital. He just jumped in his mustang and took off, not waiting to see if Russia and Lithuania wanted to join.

 

The fact that not one cop stopped him for speeding well past the normal limit was astounding and Alfred had thankful that they didn't. He would have had to get into a high speed chase.

 

Because no way was he stopping for even a second. He probably ran several red lights. He'd get a ton of tickets mailed to his home, he was sure.

 

He ran into the hospital reception and blurted in his loudest voice, “MATTHEW WILLIAMS!”

 

“Sir you'll have to quiet down.”

 

“I need to see him. He just got flown in here,” yelled Alfred, placing both hands on the desk and leaning in, “They wouldn't allow me to be on the helicopter with him.”

 

In the background, Alfred noticed a security guard edge closer and watching carefully.

 

“Sir, please lower your voice,” said the receptionist who typed on his computer, “You said that he just got flown in here?”

 

Alfred nodded, not trusting himself to keep his voice low.

 

“He's in surgery right now.”

 

The receptionist told him exactly how to get there. As soon as the man had read the very basics of Mattie's file, he'd given Alfred an odd look. The guy had probably read that Mattie had some kind of 'VIP' status. Medical care of Mattie would probably be overseen by somebody who was aware of nations and what they were.

 

As soon as Alfred got to the surgical unit that Mattie was in, he notified the receptionist there. So many roadblocks to seeing his lover. He just wanted to see Mattie.

 

Just to see his body, touch his skin. His Mattie.

 

“You'll have to wait here sir. A doctor will be out to update you as soon as he has an update.”

 

Alfred shook his head, but tried not to scream, “I need to see him now.”

 

“I'm very sorry sir, but that isn't possible. What is your relationship to Mr. Williams?”

 

Alfred looked at her and could see a flicker of recognition. He wondered how much of Mattie's profile that this woman was privy to and if she knew what he was.

 

Best not to make waves if he wasn't sure.

 

He just let the first thing that came to mind out, “My fiancée.”

 

Stumbling to the family unit, Alfred sat on a big leather couch. Shaking, he took his phone from the pocket of his pants and dialled a number.

 

“I-Iggy...I...oh God....Mattie's in the hospital.”

 

#

 

Hours came and went. People shuffled in and out of the family waiting unit. Every now and then, somebody would change the channel on the large TV. A nurse would occasionally offer Alfred a glass of water or a juice. Alfred just stared ahead at nothing.

 

Eventually he must have succumbed to sleep because he felt a hand on his arm and shouted, “How's Mattie?”

 

When he sat up, clearing sleep from his eyes, he noticed that England was sitting next to him on the couch and France was pacing in front of them.

 

Lithuania and Russia were sitting on the small loveseat across from him both of them looking concerned.

 

“The doctor is just over there, lad. She'd like to speak to us about Matthew’s condition in a more private location.”

 

Immediately perked up and jumping out of his seat, Alfred went to the doctor, “Let's go. Tell me what you know so that I can see Mattie.”

 

“Hello Mr. Jones. I am Doctor Owens. Please come with me.”

 

The doctor had a tired look on her face and a clipboard in her hands. As Russia got up to follow, the doctor shook her head.

 

“I understand that while you are also a nation, like Mr. Williams and these three gentlemen,” she said, “They are family and I cannot disclose personal information to you Mr...?”

 

“Braginsky. You may call me Russia.”

 

Russia's creepiness must not have affected the doctor at all, for she nodded and continued, “I am sure that Mr. Jones, Mr. Kirkland or Mr. Bonnefoy can fill you in if they wish after I have spoken with them, which I need to do right now.”

 

The woman's tone was so stern and no-nonsense that Russia sat back down, blinking as if in confusion, “Da.”

 

As Alfred left the room, he heard that Toris said, “How did she do that?”

 

They were led to a rather smallish office with an extra chair crammed into the office in front of the desk. She sat down and grabbed mug of coffee and started to drink.

 

“First of all, I would like to tell you that I have been in contact with a doctor from your country, Mr. Jones, who specializes in treating your kind. She aided me in treatment over video chat when I was in surgery.”

 

She set the mug down and looked Alfred directly in the eyes, “If Mr. Williams had not been one of your kind, if you don't mind that I use such a term, he would have died. We stabilized him as he had gone into shock. There had been quite a bit of internal bleeding, several broken ribs, a shattered Radius and Ulna...”

 

When Alfred knit both his eyes in confusion and opened his mouth she corrected herself, “Those are both of the bones in his forearm on his right side. As I was saying; His tibia was broken. That's a lower leg bone. He had many gashes and cuts all over his body. All of his internal organs were safe and intact. According to the specialist I consulted, his bones won't take long to heal.”  
  
Alfred gripped onto Arthur's hand tightly from where it rested on the man's own knee.

 

Alfred said, “Why do I have a feeling that there is more to it than that?”

 

Dr. Owens breathed deep and said, “Your fiancée's spine was damaged. It was nearly broken in half. It is too late to tell how severe the damage will be, and currently his body is going into spinal shock.”

 

Francis, who had been chewing his lower lip said, “And what is that?”

 

Alfred was glad that someone was there to ask, because he had lost his voice.

 

“That is where all neurological activity is lost, temporarily below the level of injury. Mr. Williams' injury was on one of his lower thoracic vertebrae. This means that while the shock lasts, he will be unable to move his legs; control any reflexes in his pelvic region, which includes bladder and bowel control as an example. I will discuss the complications in full as well as provide you with reading material to go over. We will test to see how much lasting damage there will be when the spinal shock ends.”

 

Alfred didn't know what to do. He wanted to shake the doctor and scream that she was lying to him. Mattie was a nation dammit. This kind of thing didn't happen to them.

 

“The specialist is flying up here to meet with you and assist me in your fiancée's care. She feels that recovery will be full, given time. I have never treated a being with such extraordinary healing capabilities. Am I to assume that this is correct?”

 

Arthur said, “Yes. It is. But I've never heard of a nation getting such a grievous injury and living. Usually we would just die and then come back to life a few months, years or decades later.”

 

No, no, no, no, no. Stop. Why won't everybody just shut up. Just for a minute or two.

 

Alfred brought his hands to cover his ears and leaned with his head hanging between his legs. His breathing sped up and he shut his eyes tight. He hummed to drown out the sounds that were in the room.

 

When Arthur tried to pry Alfred's hands from his ears, he lashed out and hit England. France must have seen it coming because America's wrist was grasped before it could hit.

 

“She's given us some time alone lad. Are you going to be okay?”

 

Alfred bolted up and shook, “Why are you asking if **I'm** okay? Mattie is the one who...who...oh god. Why? This is all my fault. I pissed him off the morning he left with Lithuania. If I didn't try to kick Russia out of the house and fight him, Mattie never would have left. He never would have gone on that hike and then never would have fallen off of the cliff. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

 

He found himself on his knees and warm wetness running down his cheeks.

 

“I know this is hard boy. But first off, it's not your fault. You couldn't have predicted what happened. And right now, Matthew needs you to be strong for him. He needs you now more than ever.”

 

America sniffled and then said, “This will kill him. I can handle this Iggy. I can be there for him. But for him to be unable to walk, hike, play hockey? I don't even know how badly he'll take it. How can I tell him that he'll never be able to pick up a hockey stick again.”

 

“Did she say that? Because I didn't hear that. I heard that, given some time, he will get better,” said Arthur, kneeling beside Alfred, a hand on both shoulders.

 

Alfred leapt and wrapped his arms around Arthur and sobbed into his shoulder, “But what if he doesn't. Mattie's always been the one there and healthy and hale when I get into trouble. Whenever I'm down, sick or injured, he helps me. What do I do?”

 

His words were shaky and wet, muffled into Arthur's sweater vest.

 

“Be there for him. Francis and I will be there when we can be to help you as well. So calm down, and wait to talk to this specialist before you make any judgements about Matthew's quality of life.”

 

Alfred sniffed one last time and then pulled away. He took the couple of tissues that Francis offered and blew his nose and wiped his face.

 

“Sorry,” he said, “Pretty unheroic of me, huh?”

 

Arthur shook his head, “It's fine. We understand.”

 

Alfred stood up, ready to get the doctor again before he turned with a shaky smirk, “Referring to yourself as 'we' huh. How cute.”

 

For once, England didn't sputter protests but just patted Alfred's back.

 

#

 

They'd told him that Mattie was still heavily sedated. All of the wires, cords and tubes were required. Alfred knew that.

 

However, being told that, and seeing it were two different things. He hated seeing his lover laying on the hospital bed, pale and connected to so many machines. Mattie looked so fragile. Alfred hadn't ever fully realized how strong and healthy his lover had always been, until he saw him like this.

 

And yet, even still, the man was as beautiful as ever.

 

Alfred traced down Mattie's face with the backs of his fingers and back up to stroke that blond hair. It felt matted. Alfred would have to get a brush and other things from Mattie's home.

 

The room that they were in was private, Mattie could afford it. Arthur and Francis had chosen to give Alfred time alone with Mattie.

 

“Mattie...Canada...I know you're going to wake up soon. I don't know how what's going to happen, and how your recovery will go. But I want you to know one thing.”

 

Alfred bent to kiss both of Mattie's cheeks, his forehead and then whispered against it, “I won't ever leave you. I will be there for every step of your recovery. You can beg me to leave, throw things at me, tell me I'm irritating but I'll still be there. I love you. Don't ever forget that.”

 

Light as a feather, he put his lips to Mattie's, “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if I got any information in regards to spinal cord injuries incorrect, I apologize. My few hours of research on the internet can't compare to an actual medical education or first hand experience with the condition. But I tried to make everything as factual as I could.
> 
> I think this chapter ended a bit nicer too. Canada will have a long road ahead of him though but at least he won't be doing it alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this took a while. I know what I want to happen as Canada is further into his recovery, and how I want this story to end. It's just these early stages of healing that are hard. I really hope everything is alright. I hope his recovery process (mentally and physically) are accurate.
> 
> By the way, I love all the kudos. They make me happy!

**Chapter Six**

  


Everything felt hazy and his head felt as if were stuffed with cotton balls. A nurse was standing beside his bed, reading over some papers and poking at the plethora of machinery that surrounded Matthew's. When had he arrived at the hospital? He had no idea.

  


The last thing he remembered was still being outside and seeing Alfred's face. Now he was inside and warm.

  


Oh, that's right, his legs should be warmed up. That meant that he should be able to move them. So why couldn't he? Not even a single toe would move.

  


He coughed lightly and said, “Excuse me?”

  


It took a moment for the nurse to hear his too-quiet voice and when she did, the woman smiled softly and approached, “You are awake. Glad to see that. I will tell the doctor and your fiancée at once.”

  


Fiancée? Okay, he'd think about that later. First off...

  


“Can you tell me why I can't feel my legs?”

  


He'd never not been able to feel his lower half before and his heart was racing. What was going on?

  


“I will have to get the doctor for you. She will explain everything, okay? In the meantime, see this button right here?”

  


The nurse put a button that was on a wire into his left hand, his right being in a cast and sling, “You press this if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

  


Once the nurse left the room, the door cracked open, Alfred burst in but didn't start yelling as Matthew expected him to. Following him were Arthur and Francis. Alfred stood by his bed and looked down on him with a warm smile.

  


“They normally only let two people in at a time, but they made an exception for us, since we are exceptional,” said Alfred, chuckling at the joke he made.

  


Matthew looked at Francis and Arthur and saw a strange expression. What was it? Why did they keep staring at him like that? Were they pitying him or something? Why? At least Al wasn't looking at him like that.

  


And why couldn't he just move a toe or something? He'd never cared about wiggling his big toe before, ever. Now it was all he could think about. That damn toe.

  


Arthur sat on one of the chairs that was in the large private room and said, “They made the exception because we are unable to compromise his immune system and this room has enough space for us to move out of the way in case of an emergency.”

  


Alfred groaned and rolled his eyes, “Immune system...what does that even mean? All these technical words. Mattie you won't believe all of these complicated terms that they keep saying to us. Seriously.”

  


Alfred laughed, but Matthew saw the man hold so tight to the bars of the bed that they began to bend. The gleam of delight that was usually in America's eyes was gone. Instead there was a seriousness etching every one of his facial features.

  


“Good evening gentlemen. I hear that you have just awoken, Mr. Williams. I am Dr. Owens, the surgeon who has been put on your case for now. Behind me is Dr. Hall. She will be working with me in your care.”

  


The lady who came in behind Dr. Owens was older, with all of her silver hair tied into a messy bun on the back of her head. She had kind eyes, lined from age and laughter and wore a hastily donned white doctor's coat.

  


“While I have specialized in orthopaedics, my secondary interest lies with your kind. Nations. For now, while Dr. Owens talks to you, I will sit by and watch and listen,” said Dr. Hall.

  


Matthew reached out for Alfred's hand and said, “Are you going to tell me why I can't move this darn toe.”

  


Then he thought for a second and added, “Or my legs.”

  


And so she did. She had apparently told everything to Alfred before, and repeated everything for Matthew. His spine was very badly injured. All of the repairs that had been done were listed to him.

  


Oh geez. There had been so many. No wonder he hurt so much.

  


Then there was his spine. Dr. Owens brought out a chart. The part of his spine that had been damaged was in his mid-lower back. It seemed that while the damage still had yet to be properly assessed, in cases where this part of the spine was damaged, she could predict that paraplegia was the result.

  


Dr. Hall piped up, “In humans, some amount of recovery is completely possible as long as the cord hasn't been severed entirely. One hundred percent recovery doesn't happen. There are always lingering side effects of the spinal cord injury. However a nation has a faster rate of healing. I've watched one of your kind re-grow a limb over time. It was amazing.”

  


She was very animated in her speech and arm movements. Perhaps it would have overwhelmed another person in this sort of situation, but Matthew didn't mind her enthusiasm. It distracted him from his problems, even if that was what she was talking about, “Yet when it comes to your nerves, you seem to have a more unpredictable healing pattern. Some of you, such as yourself, require glasses to see. It isn't clear, therefore, how well your spine will heal from your injury. I expect a faster recovery for you but with an outcome similar to that of a human.”

  


Alfred cleared his throat, “Meaning?”

  


“What I mean, is that Canada may very well have to use a set of leg braces once he has recovered. Possibly for a very long time, decades perhaps. It will be a full recovery, for the purposes of comparing it to a human who has had such extensive spinal damage. You may still have a limp though, maybe forever.”

  


“Oh,” was all Matthew could think of to say. He just clutched Alfred's hand.

  


Because what more could he say to that.

  


His heart sank and his mind grew numb.

  


#

  


Matthew hated this. He wanted to punch something but his right arm was only just then starting to heal up but was still very fragile. That, and he always felt stupid after thinking about destroying something. Instead, he just stared out of the window in his room, watching clouds float by and birds fly in the sky. One landed on the windowsill and stared at him. Mocking. It was out there, able to do whatever it wanted.

  


He was trapped in the hospital.

  


Every part of this situation was humiliating. It wasn't just that he was severely injured and couldn't do things by himself, needing help.

  


No. It was that he'd lost control of his basic functions. Ones that he'd always taken for granted. Like controlling his own bladder. Or...the other end.

  


It made him flush with embarrassment just thinking about it all and he especially avoided think about it in too much depth. Or at all. Like his legs.

  


He shook his head once the word 'legs' drifted through his thoughts. Nope, he wasn't going to think about those.

  


At least he could still feed himself and didn't need help breathing. That was a plus, right?

  


Matthew flicked through the channels again to pick a different TV show.

  


Alfred had made sure that he had cable in his room and had somehow had a decent TV dragged in. Matthew didn't know who the guy had paid off to be allowed to bring his own TV in. As far as he knew, most rooms were equipped with the small TV that was attached to the wall near the side of the bed that was on a retractable arm. Alfred had deemed that good television was a crucial part of the healing process.

  


Well at least Matthew wasn't too bored.

  


Just as Matthew set down the remote, Alfred burst into the room. He didn't loudly announce himself though. The nurses had refused to let America's loud volume continue and had admonished him many times until Alfred got the point.

  


“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” said Matthew, desperate for that extra large coffee cup in Alfred's hands.

  


He took a large drink and groaned, “Oh so much better than the crap in here. I wish you could get one more often.”

  


“I've been bringing you one every day.”

  


Matthew sipped, “Two or three a day would be nice.”

  


Alfred saluted and said, “I'll make sure to do that.”

  


Matthew put down his coffee and touched Alfred's arm and said, “I'm kidding Al. You've been doing enough.”

  


Setting down the box of donuts, Alfred dug in, stuffing the corner of a vanilla dip in his mouth, a sprinkle resting on the lower lip. It was in just the right spot that Matthew decided to lick it off. He went to move when reality kicked it.

  


Oh yeah, he couldn't.

  


Before he could think any further on the subject, he squashed it from his mind. Fit the problem into a small box and stopped thinking about his legs. Canada would think about all of the other problems, like his being stuck on the bed. But he refused to think about the legs.

  


The doctor said that it wasn't healthy and that he should try to ask more questions. Or talk to somebody.

  


Matthew didn't want to. He just wanted to be out of the hospital.

  


Alfred frowned around a mouthful of food and said, “What?”

  


Matthew laughed it off, wincing when a pain from his still healing injuries went through him, “You have a sprinkle right here.”

  


“But why do you look like that? Are you in pain?”

  


“A little, but I'll be fine,” said Matthew pointing at the sprinkle that Alfred still hadn't picked off yet.

  


“You're sure. Because you don't need to pretend for me.”

  


But if it was Alfred, he would have recovered faster. He wouldn't be trapped in a bed for so long. Matthew remember when they'd been in Russia and Alfred had been shot. In the chest no less. He had to have surgery, sure, however his recovery was amazing. The doctors had been astounded.

  


Matthew wondered if it had been better if he'd died. He would have come back to life after all. So how bad would it have been.

  


He must have zoned out again because Alfred was right in his face, stupid sprinkle still on his lip, “I'll ask just one more time, are you sure you're okay?”

  


Matthew leaned in and licked the sprinkle off and then kissed Alfred, soft and tender, “Yep, I'm sure.”

  


#

  


“Mr. Williams, I am aware that you are a VIP and a special case in this hospital. However some rules apply to everybody.”

  


“Then I'm leaving,” he said, crossing his arms and glaring out the window at that stupid bird that was back on his window sill again.

  


“That would be highly discouraged, however if you and your fiancee would like to seek care in another facility, you are welcome to make arrangements and plan for your travels there. However I can assure you that they will also have the same rule.”

  


“Then I'll go home,” said Matthew once more, barely making any noise, “I want to go home.”

  


Alfred was beside him, rubbing his shoulder and he said, “Are you sure that you can't make an exception?”

  


The nurse crossed her arms, “Aside from the fact that I still have a very hard time believing that you two have been alive for hundreds of years, I cannot allow a baby polar bear onto the floor of my ward. It can compromise the health of my other patients.”

  


Thinning his lips, Matthew felt his eyes start to sting. He hated this. He really hated this. He just wanted to go home. He missed pancakes fresh from the pan. He missed Kuma-whats-his-name. He missed his log walls and his soft bed. He missed nights curled up by the fire with Alfred because back then, he could actually curl his legs.

  


Right, no thinking about those stupid legs.

  


And you know what he missed the most?

  


A window without that GODDAMN bird in it.

  


Matthew picked up the remote on the rolling table beside him and chucked it at the window.

  


“Sir! You need to calm down right now,” the nurse said, as loud as she could without yelling, “And you will be paying for that.”

  


Alfred, smooth talker that he was, sidled up to her and drew out his credit card, “I can right now.”

  


They walked from the room and Matthew closed his eyes, and furious blush coming over his face. He hated losing his temper. And over something like a bird in his window. He felt like such a loser. That woman was just doing her job. Matthew was glad that Alfred was here for him to talk to the nurse.

  


Alfred came back and had a Styrofoam cup of water, filled with fresh ice. He handed it to Matthew and let their fingers brush before sitting down.

  


“Sorry for losing my temper, eh? I just miss the little guy. Did you tell her sorry for me?”

  


Alfred held his hands and let them fall between his knees as he looked anywhere but Matthew's eyes.

  


“Yeah. And...um...Can I ask you to do something for me?”

  


If America was nervous, than Canada didn't think that he would like what was about to come.

  


“Sure thing.”

  


Alfred finally met Matthew's eyes and said, “I have kept my mouth shut this whole two weeks. You have been in denial Mattie, about your legs. I thought that I could help and that if you didn't want to talk to a therapist, than you didn't have to. But this isn't going away and you can't begin to heal unless you accept what's happened.”

  


Alfred had stood up by then and was walking in a semi-circle around the end of the bed, gesturing wildly into the air.

  


“So can you just do this? For me?” said Alfred, hands finally coming to rest on the edge of the mattress.

  


“I don't know Al...” said Matthew, except that he did know and absolutely didn't want to talk to a therapist.

  


“Tell you what, if you talk to whoever the doctors want you to...I will...sneak Kumajirou in to see you.”

  


Matthew bit his lower lip. He really did want to cuddle that bear for a bit and he couldn't help but think that Kumarole was desperate to see him too. At least he hoped.

  


“Okay. I'll do it.”

  


Alfred beamed and went to the door, “I'll tell the nurse you'll see the guy whenever he gets the chance. I'll be back with Kumajirou before you know it.”

  


#

  


“Sir, you can't have an animal in the hospital. You need to leave,” said the receptionist.

  


Kumajirou, who was in his arms, said, “I told you that this wasn't going to work.”

  


“Just follow my lead,” said Alfred.

  


Then, Alfred put Kumajirou down and held one of his front paws. The bear was dressed in a child's shirt, pants and coat. Somehow, he'd even found boots big enough to jam on the bear's back paws. He really had no idea what actual human kid would fit into boots that long and wide, but Alfred wasn't going to think about it too much.

  


“This is my nephew. Ku-Kay. His name is Kay.”

  


A security guard that was in the background watched closely again. Man, they did that a lot when Alfred was coming in and talking to people around here.

  


The receptionist crossed his hands over his chest and said, “Get. Out.”

  


“No, no, seriously. He just likes dressing in his Hallowe'en costume from last year. He's obsessed with it. Say something to the nice man now Kay.”

  


Kumajirou said nothing. Crap! This was all because Alfred didn't want the bear to have a bite of his hamburger on the way here, wasn't it? Arg!

  


“Come on kiddo, say something!” said Alfred, poking the bear in the back, hard.

  


Kumajirou made a low growl and the security guard came forth fast.

  


Just before the guard could get too close, Kumajirou finally said, “Fine. Look at me. I'm a human boy. Now I'd better get a hamburger on the way back, greedy jerk.”

  


Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. The receptionist came over, astonished and said, “Wow! That looks so real. That's really a costume? Oh man. Where did you get this? My kid would love something like this.”

  


After being fawned over for a bit, Alfred finally got them up to the ICU where Mattie was. They had to go through a similar thing with the nurses on Mattie's ward. It was a bit harder, since he **HAD** just been asking to bring a polar bear in. However once Kumajirou spoke, they'd believed his story.

  


They got into the room where Mattie was. The nurses said that usually only immediate family was allowed. But an exception could be made for such a cute kid in a bear costume, apparently.

  


By the time Alfred got in to see Mattie, the man was staring rapt at the door. Alfred closed the door behind them and Kumajirou got to all fours and ran to Mattie.

  


For never remembering each others names, and the bear hardly remembering that Mattie existed, they sure seemed to miss each other. The bear snuggled up to Mattie and licked his cheek. Mattie stroked all of the exposed soft fur.

  


“How did you get him to wear clothes? It's so hard to do...I mean. Not that I've tried or anything,” whispered Mattie, smiling ear to ear.

  


“I guess that he really missed you. He hardly kicked up a fuss at all when I told him that I'd take him see you.”

  


“He remembered my name?” said Mattie.

  


“Not your name, but he remembered that he missed you.”

  


Mattie hugged the animal.

  


So worth it.

  


#

  


Later that night, when Kumacritter had gone back home with Alfred, Matthew tried to rest. Even after a two weeks, he was still so tired. His body had to work so hard to heal his injuries, even if he was a nation.

  


A worker was in his room, fixing the window he had smashed earlier. When the repair-person moved the glass he was fitting, a creature fluttered in. A small robin. The same one that had been bothering him.

  


It flew down and landed on his stomach, looking right at him. Sometimes, Matthew wondered if the animals who lived in his country knew what he was. Animals were always so intuitive, and Matthew loved them.

  


Except that this bird just didn't want to leave him alone.

  


Just as he raised a hand to swat it away, he thought better of it. It was just too cute and innocent. Oh it surely couldn't be mocking him on purpose.

  


“Shouldn't you be flying south for the winter little guy?” said Matthew.

  


The repair-person didn't hear him or see the bird yet. The robin just hopped a few times. Matthew held out a finger and it hopped onto it.

  


“Sorry for throwing a remote at you.”

  


It said nothing. Which was probably good because if it did, Matthew would start thinking he was going crazy. A talking bear that had been born alongside him was one thing, random animals speaking was a completely different situation. It did cock it's head though.

  


“I'm being childish, huh? My legs aren't going to start working if I just ignore them, are they?”

  


The repair-person stood up and looked over at Matthew, “Are you talking to me sir? Oh, just let me get that bird outta here for you. Sorry for not noticing it sooner.”

  


The bird was shooed out, but Matthew swore it landed somewhere close by and continued to watch him.

  


Tomorrow, the therapist would be around to see him. Matthew thought that he'd try as hard as he could to take the person seriously.

  


Then maybe he'd be able to move his toes!

  


Funny how a little bird could have that much impact on him.

  


#

  


“It's hard mon coeur,” said Francis, holding a cigarette to his lips and inhaling deep before letting the smoke seep from between his lips and curl up into the sky.

  


Arthur watched it float away as he waited for Francis to finish. He didn't say anything, but he understood.

  


It had been so hard, those first few days of seeing Matthew confined to that bed. It hurt even more to see him deny any problems with his legs. Canada had appeared upset at first, and had even asked questions to the doctors about paraplegia.

  


Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the lad refused to talk about his legs. He wouldn't admit anything was wrong.

  


Kept asking when he could go home.

  


So Arthur understood exactly what France meant.

  


“You know that we have to go home tomorrow. We can't be so far from home anymore,” said Arthur, placing a hand on France's arm.

  


Francis swallowed audibly and nodded, “I know. I just don't have to like it. Every time I see him there, on the bed, I see the little boy that I found so long ago in the wilderness of these lands. I wish I could leave knowing that something was going on the right path.”

  


“I know,” said Arthur, surprising himself lately with his understanding attitude and lack of sniping at Francis, “But Alfred is a good boy. He'll take care of Matthew.”

  


Crushing the cigarette into the little tray set out in the smoking area, Francis started for the front doors.

  


They'd been going every day for a week and a half, so getting to Matthew's floor wasn't hard.

  


Arthur raised a fist to rap on Matthew's door when it was snagged by America.

  


“Hey. He's busy right now,” said Alfred with a tremulous smile.

  


“More procedures?” asked Francis, looking faintly ill.

  


Francis had told Arthur that he hated having to see people get needles and tests done.

  


Alfred shook his head, “Seeing a therapist! I finally got him to agree.”

  


“That's great!” said Francis and Arthur patted Alfred's back.

  


“But the question is, boy, how are you?” asked Arthur, looking up into Alfred's sky blue eyes.

  


“I'm doing well. I mean, now that I can at least talk to Mattie and touch him.”

  


“What about your job?” asked Arthur, despite the jabs from Francis to his side.

  


Francis didn't think that Arthur should bring up the subject of work. Arthur thought that it was important.

  


“I've put myself on indefinite leave. My boss knows that I'll be checking in every now and then. But for now, I've put off the whole being a nation thing.”

  


Arthur felt his eyes widen. What the hell was America saying?

  


“That isn't something you can just set aside. You are your nation. You need to be there, help your people. You need that connection.”

  


Alfred shrugged and said, “Well it looks like I can, because I did.”

  


“Look, I understand that you love Matthew. But you have a duty.”

  


“There are people to do all of the stuff I do. I have a duty to my lover and best friend. I don't give a shit about anything else right now.”

  


Both Arthur and Francis stared at Alfred. They'd never heard the boy say anything like that. He was so devoted to the lands that he was a nation of. Devoted to his people.

  


“What are you saying? Are you actually choosing another nation over your own?”

  


Alfred put his face in Arthur's and growled faintly, “No! I'm putting Mattie, as his own person above my nation. There's a difference. Are you saying that you'd choose the United Kingdom over helping Francis? You may be a nation, but you're also a person.”

  


Arthur paled and thought about it. He tried to think about what he'd do if it were that damned frog on the bed instead of Matthew. Laying prone and so badly injured. He shook his head in a rough movement to clear it.

  


Arthur jumped a bit when he felt Francis circle and arm around his shoulders.

  


“Okay. I get it. But you can't do this forever. You need to think of a permanent solution in case Matthew's recovery takes longer than you and the doctors predict.”

  


Alfred sighed, probably in relief, “I know. And I am. Just...can you do me a favour?”

  


“Of course.”

  


“Don't tell Mattie. He has enough to worry about right now, okay?”

  


Arthur wasn't sure that was a good idea but decided to agree.

  


  


  


  


  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er...I don't know if this showed up as chapter 6 and then chapter 8 for you guys. I have no idea what happened but I fixed it. There was no missing chapter....Weird.

**Chapter 7**

 

“This is stupid,” said Matthew, rubbing one of his eyes.

 

Alfred leaned against the door frame to his room, holding up the coffee from Tim's, “I guess I’ll just have to drink this all by myself. But I won't enjoy it as much as you, since I like more sugar in mine.”

 

“Don't you dare. Just bring it over here.”

 

“Nope. You have to come get it.”

 

Grumbling under his breath about stupid Americans withholding delicious coffee from disabled nations, Matthew looked away.

 

“'Kay, I'm opening it now.”

 

“Al, it's just that getting into that wheelchair is frustrating. I feel so clumsy.”

 

“That's why you have to practice. It would be easier if you'd let somebody help you.”

 

Matthew shook his head. If he got the nurses to help lift him into the wheelchair one more time, he'd feel even more useless. He had to do this on his own. After all, his arms still worked well enough.

 

“Okay, I'll do it. Don't drink that coffee.”

 

It had been six weeks since his injury. Since then, his spinal shock had worn off. He'd regained feelings in his left leg and his toes could move. Matthew could get some of his muscles to move and had a bit more hip movement. It was progress at least.

 

His bed had been lowered as far as it could go in the hopes that Matthew would feel inspired to use the wheelchair. The nurses and Alfred had put him into the device all of two times before he refused to be moved any more.

 

It wasn't that he threw more fits. He was sorry enough about having thrown that remote. He'd even apologized so many times to the nurse who'd been in the room that time that she'd begun to get frustrated. She'd told him to stop saying sorry and that she'd dealt with worse.

 

He still felt terrible for losing his cool.

 

Okay. He could do this. Seriously. Matthew had fought in multiple wars. He'd helped build this country into what it was.

 

He could master moving himself from the bed to the wheelchair.

 

“Don't watch,” said Matthew, flushing as he wormed his way to the edge of the bed.

 

Alfred pouted, “Why not?”

 

“Because.”

 

He didn't want to answer. It was stupid.

 

“Tell me Mattie. Please?”

 

Whispering so low that Alfred had to move closer, Matthew said, “Because you would have been able to do this by now. You'd be out of the stupid hospital and running around outside.”

 

Alfred had ditched the coffee on a table somewhere and ran over to Matthew, wrapping his arms around him, “How do you know? I've never been through this before. The only thing I've had before is some sniffles and a cough one time.”

 

Nuzzling his face into Alfred's neck and breathing his comforting scent deep, he said, “That's not true. Remember the great depression? You were starving and so thin and desperately ill. Yet you still didn't let that stop you even one bit.”

 

“Well, yeah...okay. This is different. This was an accident and you remember what Dr. Hall has been saying, right?”

 

“In nations, the various system of nerves and the brain functions far more like a human in how much it is able to heal.”

 

“So go easy on yourself.”

 

“I'm still healing faster than a human would. So I should be able to do this. How can she know what she's talking about?”

 

“Do it then. Just get out of this bed and prove her wrong,” said Alfred, moving away and fetching the coffee, once more standing by the door.

 

Matthew got into position. Did all the right moves, and fell onto his face into the seat of the chair. He just let himself stay like that. Never mind that he hurt in the places that he still got feeling and it was so uncomfortable. He wanted to give up.

 

Then he heard the coffee cup open.

 

“No. It's mine and I haven't had coffee today. Don't drink it,” he grumped.

 

“Oh, it's so good. Still nice and fresh.”

 

“Damn you Al.”

 

“Mmmmm.”

 

“Go to hell.”

 

Matthew heaved himself up, using every ounce of strength in his arms and positioned himself. His hips were tilted to the side and his legs felt like they were in a jumble but he was on the damned seat. He was on and he did it by himself.

 

There was a shit-eating grin on Alfred's face. He held the un-opened coffee cup in one hand and an extra lid in the other.

 

“Jerk.”

 

Alfred laughed, “Come get your coffee. You know that I wouldn't risk drinking your coffee. Do I look suicidal to you?”

 

Wheeling the chair was pretty easy, considering how hard it was to get onto it. Thankfully Matthew had great upper body strength. He supposed chopping all of that wood for the winter months was a great help.

 

Alfred handed the drink over and Matthew took greedy gulps. So good.

 

“While you drink, I've been given permission to take you around the hospital grounds, if you'll let me wheel you?”

 

Matthew nodded absently, focused on his caffeine. Alfred wrapped a few heavy blankets around Matthew's body before taking him out.

 

The first burst of fresh air on his face made him gasp in pleasure. He lowered the cup and raised his face to the sky. The clouds were so pretty and fluffy and the ice crunched under the wheels of the chair. The white snow had fallen fresh the night before and sparkled under the morning sun.

 

“Al, come here.”

 

Alfred put the breaks on the chair and knelt in front of him. Matthew dipped his head and kissed Alfred. His lover's mouth tasted of the donut he'd consumed before he'd arrived to tease Matthew with coffee. It was so warm and pliant under him that he whimpered before breaking the kiss and rubbing his cheek against America's.

 

“Thank you,” whispered Canada.

 

#

 

“Hey Alfred.”

 

Alfred sat on the cushy chair he'd had brought in and had set near Mattie's bed. Currently he was watching Oprah talk about weight loss. Man she was so smart. Alfred could totally do those things to lose weight, since he was probably getting a bit pudgy. Last time he'd weighed himself, the scale showed he'd gone up two pounds.

 

“Yeah?” he said absently, jaw slack in concentration.

 

“Why haven't you been going to work?”

 

Oh crap! He was hoping Matthew would just buy his whole, 'I've been Skyping with my boss” excuse he'd had going on.

 

“Who blabbed? Was it England? That damn bastard! I told him not to.”

 

“Your boss called while you were out feeding Kumayippy. He asked me how my condition was, but assured me that you could have as much time off as you needed. What's that about?”

 

Alfred fidgeted. Then he squirmed and then he jumped out of the chair, “You want take-out? I want Chinese. But I could go for sushi. Then again, I'm always up for burgers. You want a poutine? I think I'll get you a-”

 

“Al, shut up and answer me.”

 

“Don't wanna,” he said, pouting and looking down.

 

He slouched his shoulders, let his lower lip slip out and widened his eyes like a puppy would. Maybe this way he could get Mattie to drop the subject.

 

“Al.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Alfred.”

 

“Not talking.”

 

“Fine. You want silence. I can do that.”

 

Alfred didn't mind, at first. He did have the rest of Oprah to watch, and he really didn't want to talk about work with Mattie. He didn't want the guy to worry.

 

Then there was Dr. Oz. Mattie hated Dr. Oz and put on his Ipod with music and read while Alfred watched that show. Alfred liked him, despite that fact that Mattie usually took the chance to claim that the man was 'a crack-pot' pseudo doctor. Alfred thought that if anything broke the silent treatment, it would be Dr. Oz. But Mattie was quiet.

 

After that, Alfred found an action movie to balance out the talk-shows that he had just watched. It was a b-rated monster movie. One about a shark-tornado. It was awesome. He kept trying to talk to Mattie about it but getting nothing.

 

He went out to get food. He picked since Mattie said nothing about what he wanted. Nurses came and went.

 

It wasn't until Alfred unfolded the cot that he'd been sleeping on that he finally gave up, “Okay, okay. You win! It's just how it sounds. I'm taking time off.”

 

Mattie raised an eyebrow and held out a hand in indication that he should continue his explanation.

 

“I just want to devote all of my time to you. I can't imagine doing anything else.”

 

“Oh,” was all Mattie said as the man then tried to drag the covers of his blanket over his head.

 

Alfred got off of his bed and wiggled his way onto the narrow hospital bed that Mattie was laying on. He grabbed the top of the blanket and tried to tug it down. Mattie held it up stubbornly making a quiet grunt.

 

So Alfred ducked under the blanket and peeked up at Mattie, “Why're you hiding?”

 

The room was already dimmed so that they could go to sleep. Under the blankets it was more dark, but Alfred could still see the flush on Mattie's face.

 

“Your country is so important to you. I don't know why you'd do that for me. ”

 

“Why not? I love you so much. You're everything to me. Even if being here with you, and not doing my duty to my country made my power fade until I was a human, I'd be here. Always. Can't you see that?”

 

Right before Mattie turned his head and tried to bury it in his pillow, Alfred saw his lower lip wobble.

 

Alfred hugged Mattie from behind and said, “Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you.”

 

Mattie sniffled, not letting Alfred see his face and said, “Yes. I'm good. Um...remember what you'd been trying to ask me a while ago?”

 

“Huh? You mean what you wanted for dinner?”

 

“No. You asked me if I'd marry you.”

 

Alfred suddenly perked up and sat up, ripping the blanket from over their heads, “Oh that. What about it?”

 

“Ask me again.”

 

Getting off the bed and falling down to one knee, Alfred took Mattie's hand and kissed the top of it, “Matthew Williams, will you marry me?”

 

“Yes. Yes I will.”

 

They slept on the same bed, even though it was narrow. For hours, they kissed leisurely. They weren't able to go further than that physically. But that didn't stop their hands from touching, caressing.

 

Alfred locked the door to the room and drew the curtain. He pressed feather light kisses down each of Mattie's legs, the bottom of each foot. Drawing both hands up the soft skin of Mattie's torso. Grazing his lips over the indentation just under Mattie's neck, up and over his Adam’s apple.

 

Alfred twined their hands together, pressed his body close.

 

“I love you,” said Mattie.

 

Alfred kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seemed like a good place to end this chapter. I wanted to keep it fluffy and sappy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 

Matthew wheeled his way towards the door to the room. Eight weeks had passed since his injury and he had thought that he was sick and tired of this room. Yet as he grabbed the last of his things from the table, he felt a bit sad.

 

“Am I stupid that I think I'll miss this place?” he asked Alfred, who had all of the rest of Matthew's bags in his arms.

 

“I guess not. But I know that I won't be sad to never see it again. It'll be nice to sleep in a soft bed for once,” he said, toeing the door open.

 

A few of the nurses stood there across the hall and waved at him. One of them called out to Matthew as he wheeled out, with significantly more precision than when he first began, “We'll miss you Mr. Williams! But we are happy that you've healed so well so far.”

 

Another nurse came over to him, arms crossed over his chest, “Just don't you stop with your physiotherapy.”

 

Alfred grinned, “He won't. I've set up the best of the best to take care of him back where I live.”

 

Matthew nodded and smiled.

 

After some convincing, Matthew had told Alfred that he wanted to move to the USA for a while. The two of them would switch between each other's homes. However this stay would be for significantly longer. Matthew already had to take time off to recover as it was. The way he saw it, he might as well do the rest of his recovery in a place that allowed Alfred to do some of his work.

 

As much as Alfred loved to be there for Matthew, and claim to not mind being in the hospital for so long, that wasn't entirely true. Matthew knew that the man was getting antsy. Alfred had been living in the hospital with Matthew. He only left to pick things up that the two of them needed.

 

Alfred was, at his heart, a man of action. A man who loved adventure, change and excitement. He was also stubborn and loyal to a fault. So he suggested that Alfred outfit his home in Virginia to accommodate the wheelchair and Matthew's disability.

 

“Ah! Freedom. Doesn't it smell great Mattie?” said Alfred as they got outside.

 

Matthew chuckled at Alfred, who was spinning in place. Alfred had bought a new car and had his mustang sent to his home. This car was less flashy than most of his others. It had more room for Matthew and the devices that he still needed. Plus, his wheelchair could go in the trunk or the backseat with ease, no wiggling or shoving needed.

 

Matthew had offered that Alfred could just used the car he owned but had been turned down. Alfred was still stubborn and prideful at heart. Matthew's car hadn't been quite what Alfred wanted.

 

What Alfred wanted, apparently, was something really flashy and fast even if it was big. Matthew couldn't help but roll his eyes.

 

When he transferred himself to the passenger seat, he was pounced on right away.

 

“You, whatever your name is, you're back for good, right? Are you going to take over feeding me again? This jerk doesn't do it right and is stingy with his own food,” said Kumalorry, looking up with stern little beady black eyes.

 

Matthew gave the creature a kiss on the top of his head and said between giggles, “Yes. I will. I missed you too.”

 

Alfred hadn't tried the 'Kumahippo is his nephew' thing too often. So Matthew really did miss his pet. He missed a lot of things by being in the hospital. But the world seemed so huge now, far bigger than it ever had before.

 

Alfred got in after putting all the bags away and began to drive, “So I'm just going to drive home, okay? I got a good sleep last night, so I doubt that I'll need to stop at a hotel. We can just take a few breaks and get to our home in Virginia by midnight or one or something.”

 

Our home. Matthew loved the sound of that.

 

The drive was eleven hours. Matthew didn't really mind it though. That wasn't very long in the grand scheme of things, “Remember when going to visit each other took anywhere from a week or two?”  
  
Alfred snorted, “And we didn't get to see each other more than a few times a year. I'd never forget that, it was agonizing.”

 

“Did I ever tell you how much I missed you whenever you weren't around.”

 

Reaching out to grab his hand, Alfred said, “No, but I assumed. I missed you too.”

 

Looking out the window on his side, Matthew asked, “I've been meaning to ask for a few years now. Do you ever visit her grave?”

 

Tightening his hold, but not painfully, Alfred said, “Yes. Does that bother you?”

 

Matthew shook his head, squinting against the sun shining down, “No. Maybe it should. I mean, it did make me sad when you married her, and having to stay in the same house as you consummated your marriage to her-”

 

Alfred interrupted, voice laden with sadness, “I talked to England about it, y'know. He felt badly that I invited you to witness the wedding. But you know what?”

 

“What?”  
  


“As much as I'm sorry that I made you sad, I'd do it again. Even if I knew how you felt about me.”

 

Matthew tilted his head and tried to meet Al's eyes, which were focused on the road, “You would have?”

 

“I'm selfish. I needed you there for me.”

 

“No, you were in love with me. Even if you also loved Suze. I should tell you, I hold you no ill will. Not once did I ever have to lie about how wonderful she was.”

 

Al laughed, eyes sparkling, “You're not kidding, huh? God, most people would be jealous as hell that I still think about Susanna after hundreds of years. But why are you bringing this up?”

 

“Because it's been a long time since we've been in Virginia. You missed the anniversary of her death. So on our way back home, why don't we stop in the spot where she rests?”

 

“How have we gone so long without talking about this?” asked Alfred.

 

Matthew shrugged, “We're both emotionally stifled macho men.”

 

Alfred laughed, loud and hearty and took his hand away from Matthew's to wipe a stray tear from his face, “Oh, that's good. Tell me more jokes.”

 

Alfred smirked over at Matthew.

 

“Hey, I'm macho. I wear flannel all the time and chop wood. I own a pet bear. That's manly.”

 

With a snort, Alfred said, “'Kay, Mattie? Lesbians wear flannel.”

 

“Julie didn't,” retorted Matthew, referring to his ex-wife that he'd wed to keep them both from prosecution.

 

“I bet she wanted to.”

 

“I'm not going to be held responsible if she comes back from the dead in order to haunt you.”

 

Alfred poked Matthew's shoulder, “Anyway, women can shop wood, they do all the time. That's not very macho. And I'd give you the bear thing, but he's a baby bear. Just look at him.”

 

Kumafloppa slept in Matthew's lap, curled in a ball. His adorable eyelashes flicked over that soft white fur.

 

“Yeah he is pretty adorable.”

 

“See, you aren't macho,” said Alfred.

 

“Why were we even talking about this? I forget?”

 

“You said that we are both too macho to talk over our feelings.”

 

“Oh. Right,” said Matthew, not really knowing how to retort.

 

They were quiet for a while, turning onto the highway. Just as Matthew was about to hook his Ipod up to the stereo, Alfred yelled, “I have a question.”

 

“Sure. What is it?”

 

“When we get married...? You're going to come up the aisle to me, right?”

 

Matthew smacked Alfred's arm as the man laughed and continued with his teasing, “And you've gotta wear white.”

 

Alfred laughed so hard that he needed to pull over and regain his bearings. The joke wasn't that funny and so Matthew leaned over and whispered softly and seductively into Alfred's ear, “I think you should wear white, after all, you're the one with the virgin ass.”

 

Canada didn't get to make America blush very often but when he did it was priceless. Alfred's whole face would redden like a beet and he'd look away like a shy maiden.

 

Matthew giggled and put on some music. The Barenaked Ladies.

 

“Maybe, at some point, we can change that.”

 

When Matthew almost choked on his own saliva and his jaw dropped, Alfred pulled back into traffic with a grin.

 

#

 

They'd needed to stop a whole bunch of times, sometimes just so that Alfred could help Matthew shift around so that his bottom didn't get too sore. Matthew could move around furniture pretty easily, but there still wasn't a whole lot of room in a car. They'd also needed to break for food, especially Alfred.

 

They'd made a pit stop to the graveyard that had Susanna's resting spot. Alfred had knelt in front of it and whispered to the stone. Matthew kept back in his wheelchair to give Alfred privacy. He wondered if Alfred was telling Suze about the two of them getting together.

 

Matthew, though not very religious, sent up a little prayer to her. He hoped that she rested well, wherever humans ended up when they passed on.

 

It hadn't taken long for Alfred to be done, and they'd kissed passionately in the car once they'd left the cemetery. Matthew felt like Suze would have approved.

 

Right on the dot, at Midnight, they pulled up to Alfred's lavish home. Alfred set up Matthew's wheelchair and they got him into it.

 

Matthew refused to be pushed. He wheeled himself up the ramps that had been installed. Alfred had paid a small fortune for his home to be outfitted so quickly.

 

Rolling across the threshold felt so different then when he normally walked into the house. He'd be staying there for quite a while longer than usual. Plus, he felt happy. He wished he understood why.

 

He couldn't even walk with braces yet, he still had to wheel everywhere.

 

But he was so happy.

 

Everything had been changed around. There was even a whole bedroom on the first floor for them, fitted with a bathroom that was perfect. Matthew could be fully independent in it. There was a shower chair for showering and with the flick of a switch, it would lower into a large tub so that he could soak. The chair was removable and there were support bars everywhere for when he could stand on his own.

 

“I had all this done in your home too. So don't feel like you have to stay here forever, okay?” said Alfred, wrapping an arm around Matthew and kissing his temple.

 

“Why don't we go to sleep? We can both be comfortable tonight,” said Matthew.

 

“Great idea! I am pretty tired.”

 

#

 

He could do this. It wasn't that hard. Matthew wheeled himself around the completely re-done kitchen. Everything had been expanded for his chair. Which was good, because Matthew had yet to regain feelings in his one leg. He had no idea when he'd be able to start even trying to walk.

 

Right then, he was focusing every part of his being on making pancakes.

 

They'd been in the USA for a few weeks and Alfred had only just left for a full day of work that day. Before that, America had been only going every now and then and never for more than a few hours at a time. For weeks, America had been doing everything around the house, and Matthew had finally convinced him to let him cook and clean.

 

Too bad that America had forgotten to put the flour down where Matthew could get to it. It was way too high. Matthew wouldn't even be able to pull himself up to standing in order to get it.

 

There had to be another way.

 

Then he spotted a broom in the corner.

 

Aha! Perfect.

 

Slowly put surely he poked at the canister of flour, inch by agonizing inch until he knocked it off the shelf.

 

Sometimes, Matthew was stupid and didn't think things through. He just really wanted pancakes made by him. Alfred's pancakes were okay, but not quite the same as his own.

 

So Matthew watched as the huge tin of flour fell down, opened and poured a shower of white powder all over him. He coughed and spit out a mouthful of flour, since he'd stared at the falling powder with a slackened mouth.

 

White covered his whole chair too. Damn.

 

And, since life had perfect timing, the doorbell began to ring.

 

Matthew, swearing under his breath, wheeled to the door and called out, “Who is it?”

 

Nobody heard him and his cursed quiet voice, since whoever it was continued to ring.

 

“I said, who is it?” called Matthew, hopefully louder this time around.

 

“It's England and France,” called the lazy voice of Francis.

 

“Uh, can't you come back later?”

 

Arthur's stern voice carried over Francis' protests, “No. What is wrong lad?”

 

Brushing off as much of the flour as he could, Matthew sighed and opened the door, “This is.”

 

Francis held a hand to his lips and tried not to chuckle and even Arthur's mouth twitched.

 

“Mon dieu, Mattieu. What happened?”

 

Matthew turned his chair and wheeled away in a huff. He didn't have to take this.

 

“I like being covered in flour, eh?” he grumbled, “It's a Canadian thing.”

 

“Were you trying to cook something?” asked England, “Why didn't America cook it for you? Where is he?”

 

Matthew scowled and trailed more flour towards the flour mess where he began to sweep it up, “He's at work. Finally. I was TRYING to cook for myself for once. Everything is low enough for me, except that flour.”

 

England got a cocky smile and patted his own chest, “Well I can cook something for you. I know that you used to love the scones I made when you were growing up.”

 

Matthew felt the blood drain from his face. He sure did love those scones, if by love, England meant buried in the soil of plants and hurled out of any nearby window he could find as soon as Arthur turned his back.

 

One of the plants that England kept in his kitchen when Canada grew up there eventually died after Matthew put too many scones in it's soil.

 

However he never had the heart to say anything to the proud man, who loved his own country's cooking.

 

Thankfully, Francis had no such issue, “I'd rather you didn't kill poor dear Mattieu with your foul concoctions mon cher.”

 

England slammed down a metal bowl that he'd found and glared, “Go to hell. You want a scone don't you lad?”

 

Francis rose a brow at Matthew and said, “Tell him the truth.”

 

Matthew opened his mouth, but nothing came out but a squeak. He hated confrontations like this.

 

“Well,” prodded England until Matthew nodded.

 

Arthur beamed and said, “There France, you see?”

 

Great.  
  
#

 

Alfred heard the wheels of his mustang squeal as he tore into the driveway. He really hadn't wanted to leave Mattie alone. But the man had all but pushed him out the door and demanded that Alfred go to work.

 

He leapt out of the car, and saw Tony, sitting on the front doorstep. His little alien friend kept muttering, “Limey bastard.”

 

England and France were here already?

 

America didn't give it much thought when he saw smoke coming from the back of the house. That was near where the kitchen was.

 

“Mattie! I'll save you.”

 

In the kitchen was Arthur, opening windows and waving thick black smoke out with a tea towel. Francis was standing on a stool, turning off the fire-alarm that was still trying to blare it's warnings. Mattie was outside on the porch, glaring into his hand as he held a charred lump of food.

 

He felt like he ran in slow motion as he went for Mattie. He was pretty sure even the 'no' he screamed came out in slo-mo.

 

Swatting the burnt scone from Mattie's hand felt like a little anti-climatic but he was glad that he did it. The thing fell to the ground and made thud that sounded too loud for how small it was.

 

“Seriously Iggy? Why are you trying to feed my fiancée that crap?” said Alfred, “And Mattie, why are you all white?”

 

“You left the flour on the top shelf. I wanted pancakes and it opened on me when I tried to get it down. Then they came and England asked me if I wanted a scone and I didn't know what to say.”  
  


“Easy, Mattie. You tell him 'hell no'.”

 

Francis shook his head and said, “I tried to get him to tell the truth.”

 

England came over, and frowned, “Wait, but I thought you loved my scones. Why is everybody saying that you don't?”

 

Canada frowned and started to try to wheel away. Alfred locked the wheels. Yeah, he was a bit of a jerk sometimes, but Mattie needed to get better at confrontations.

 

“I...maybe...don't care for scones...as much as...I may have implied,” whispered Mattie.

 

“What do you mean by that?” asked Arthur, sounding a bit dejected, “I was going to make some for your wedding next week.”

 

Matthew looked up in a panic and said, “Please don't. I mean. I actually really don't like scones...at all...even a little bit. They're gross.”

 

“Oh. Well, I could make a trifle.”

 

When Mattie looked vaguely ill at the idea, which Alfred didn't fully get since he liked trifles. They were custardy and yummy. But he knew how Mattie felt.

 

“Why don't you bring drinks?” suggested Alfred.

 

England pouted and sat down with a huff.

 

Francis stepped closer, “We weren't really here to discuss scones though, especially since I had already told rosbif not to make those disgusting things for any occasion, let alone a wedding. We were here to help you get your house ready for the wedding. But might I ask, what was the hurry to get married so soon?”

 

“Well, wouldn't you be in a hurry- Ack! Mattie why are you elbowing me so hard,” said Alfred before he looked between Francis and Arthur and remembered...

 

“Oh yeah...er...I guess you wouldn't know. Um, not saying there is anything wrong with not being married, I just really wanna be Mattie's husband,” said Alfred.

 

England's face turned red and he grumbled, “We might know how you feel.”

 

Alfred was confused but Mattie's eyes widened.

 

“You two?”

 

Alfred scratched the back of his head. Francis nodded and Arthur grumbled some more.

 

“Okay, I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Alfred, because it felt like everybody was talking in code.

 

“The frog dragged me to the Netherlands to get married back in 2001 when it was first legalized there, okay?”

 

Arthur took out a chain necklace that had a ring dangling from it. He didn't meet anybody's eyes.

 

Feeling his lower lip slide out, Alfred said, “But why didn't you guys invite me and Mattie?”

 

Mattie said, “I thought you had to be dutch in order to get married there.”

 

“Netherlands owed me a favour and pulled some strings to make it happen. He also promised not to tell anybody,” said France.

 

“You mean you had blackmail material on him,” said England, resting his head on his arms that were laid out on the porch table.

 

“But you didn't answer my question of why nobody invited me or told me?” whined Alfred.

 

“Nobody was invited. We wanted to be together and not make it into a huge ordeal. And if either of you two say anything to any other nation, horrible things will happen. Do I make myself clear?” said Arthur, looking mostly at America.

 

“Why not? Being married is awesome and -herk-” Alfred felt one of Arthur's hands around his throat and the Brit in his face growling.

 

“Because I'll kill you that's why. Not a bloody word.”

 

Once Arthur stopped strangling Alfred and they all sat back down, Mattie said, “Well congratulations, even if it is belated. So maybe you can see why we want to be married sooner rather than later?”

 

Both European nations nodded.

 

France said, “And as I was saying before, I happily offer my services to help plan your wedding.”

 

#

 

“Mon petit, please come out of there,” called Francis, voice singsonging.

 

Matthew shook his head even though nobody could see him in the bathroom. He looked stupid. A pure-white tux was bad enough, but his wheelchair just made him look like a dweeb. Matthew was sure that other people could pull it off. Matthew just felt that he looked stupid.

 

“Okay. I'm going to go get Alfred, even though it's bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

 

Matthew wheeled over and opened the door. He didn't want to meet France’s eyes. Surely Francis would be able to pull this outfit off. The man was incredibly fashionable, after all.

 

“Wow.”

 

Matthew sighed and wrung his hands in his lap, “I look crappy, huh?”

 

“Non. As a matter of fact, if I wasn't a taken man and wasn't afraid of Alfred trying to murder me, I'd put the moves on you.”

 

Fighting not to grin, Matthew said, “You're just saying that.”

 

“I would not lie. Just let me put these strands of hair back...et voila! Perfect,” said Francis.

 

Matthew looked in the full length mirror. He wore a white tux, though only colour breaking everything up was a silver tie. His curly hair had been combed back and held in place with a bit of some kind of hairspray or mousse or gel or something. He didn't really know. France told him what to put in his hair and he listened. He'd never done more than shampoo, conditioner and then using a comb before in his life.

 

“L'Amerique will love it.”

 

“Yeah...”

 

Matthew sort of felt like throwing up. He was so nervous. It, again, brought all of his fears to the tip of his mind.

 

Like what if he was a bad spouse? He didn't know.

 

And now he had to go in front of so many other nations and be in the spot-light.

 

Maybe Alfred would look so good that Matthew wouldn't even be noticed?

 

Jesus Murphy, Matthew sure hoped so. He never thought he'd hope that America would overshadow him. But here was was, desperately hoping that nobody would pay him too much attention.

 

A knock sounded on the door and England said, “Alfred's at the alter. It's time.”

 

Shit. He wanted to run. No, scratch that, wheel away.

 

The weight of France's hand fell on his shoulder and Matthew took a deep breath.

 

“Despite the fact that I always seem so calm and composed,” started France.

 

That wasn't true, but Matthew wasn't in a place to be the one to talk so he let the man continue.

 

“I was quite nervous before I married Arthur.”

 

France went in front of Matthew, glass of wine in his hand- of course, “I was the one who had suggested it and yet I felt as if I were going to lose my mind as I waited in that courtroom for our turn. I wanted to run and never turn back. I wanted to pick a fight with England so that he'd call the whole thing off. But then he grabbed my hand and...and don't tell him I am saying any of this because he will murder me...but he kissed the back of it. He met my eyes and smiled. It was enough to make me continue. So you go out there, because as soon as you meet Alfred's eyes, nothing else will matter.”

 

#

 

And France was right.

 

The two of the held the ceremony behind Alfred's house. Neither of them were very religious anymore and had no particular desire to wed in a church. Matthew couldn't have been happier.

 

Flowers of blue and white were placed in large urns that were in the snow that was around the outside of the large tent that had been set up. Small heaters were set around the perimeter to help keep guests warm. France had suggested they hold the ceremony inside, since Alfred's house was large enough and it was winter. But both Canada and America had refused. They wanted it outside.

 

Lines of wooden chairs made up the rows. The aisle itself had a very small ramp that led up to a wooden path so that Matthew didn't have trouble moving to the alter. A white fabric, organza as Matthew had learned, was draped up the sides of the wooden aisle. It was also all over the tent and the chairs. White and blue flowers has been scattered over the aisle as well.

 

There weren't a ton of guests. Mostly nations. Germany, Italy, Russia, Lithuania, Ukraine, Netherlands, Prussia, South Italy, Spain, Belgium, Austria, Hungary, Australia, Cuba, Denmark, Norway, Finland, Sweden, Greece, Japan, China, Iceland, Latvia, Estonia, Poland, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, New Zealand and Ireland. Since all of the nations there respected Canada when they remembered him, he was pretty sure that no blood would be shed that day. Each of their bosses were also there. Tony was wearing a suit, which amused Matthew. Kumamutti had his own seat beside the alien and wore a little bow-tie.

 

But all of the faded to the background when he saw Alfred.

 

America stood at the alter. His blond hair was also tamed back with product, his stubborn hair, his Nantucket, was still in the air. He wore black with a silver tie. Those blue eyes shimmered and lit up when they met Matthew's. Alfred was beautiful. Simple breathtaking.

 

Alfred mouthed, “I love you.”

 

And all of Matthew's fears faded.

 

He may be different now. He may have to wheel his way to matrimony instead of walking. They'd been through wars, fought together and apart. They'd fought each other, debated, yelled and attacked. They'd gone years without more than formal letters.

 

However despite everything, one thing was constant: Their love for one another.

 

Nothing would ever change that or come between them.

 

So he mouthed back, “I love you too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erk! So I hope this ending was okay. I felt like the story was dragging a bit, but I didn't want to add more drama. So I decided to end it here. Hopefully you all didn't need too much insulin at the sweet fluffiness.
> 
> On my AO3 version of the story, I will later be posting a follow-up chapter of pure smut. Matthew taking Alfred's virgin ass kind of smut. So watch that account :)
> 
> Next project: My FrUk story. I've teased you enough with them, so I'm going to get working on their story.
> 
> Please REVIEW, I love them all. Constructive criticism is also nice.
> 
> Most of all THANK YOU for reading.


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